


the stars seem different

by onlinemagenta



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Amnesia, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, F/F, F/M, Identity Reveal, I’m so sorry baby, Keith (Voltron) is suffering, M/M, Major Character Death (temporary), Rebel Lance (Voltron), okay let’s goooo, well prior to his ‘death’ anyway, ‘Lost Lance Au’
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2019-10-19 18:26:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17606600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onlinemagenta/pseuds/onlinemagenta
Summary: “What’s your name?” She tried again.“My name?” His name, easy enough, his name is... His name. Why didn’t he know? He pushed hard, slamming against the mental barrier with all his might but came up empty, all he could remember was, “Blue.”xLance dies after a blast of unstable quintessence, only to wake up lightyears away on the beach of a foreign planet, with no recollection of his past life whatsoever.





	1. Chapter 1

He was slipping away, that’s what it felt like. Life was leaving him, but he wasn’t afraid. He was floating, not really here or there, not one of life or death. He felt infinite, like his soul was expanded across the universe and reverberating through each orbit in a gentle breeze. Pain was nothing but a distant memory, he could hardly recall the feeling, not as he fell through existence like a grain of sand.

Then he remembered, there was something he was supposed to do, and it took no resistance to reach out, no strain whatsoever as he took grasp to life. Life that had given this body and mind so much pain and anguish, life that treated him so poorly and tore him apart piece by piece until he wound up a single flicker of death strung in the air.

Reality hit hard. His body felt so heavy he was sure it’d sink through the dry earth and into the crust, and the pain, the pain death had bereft him of, life gave it back full force. It coursed through his veins, hot and sour and stifling. He couldn’t breathe. Every aching second felt like he was inhaling fire, his chest burning like hot coals beneath it. His head throbbed, and his legs had seeped into numbness, he couldn’t feel them at all.

“Hey! Mister?”

The voice was distant and distorted, almost like he was hearing it through layers of cotton. He tried to open his eyes, as soon as light hit them the ringing behind his temples begun. He cringed and turned away from the blaring sun, only to freeze as pain shot up his spine like a bullet.

“Mister, are you okay?”

He couldn’t move. He was paralysed. He wished he’d just stayed floating.

“My Momma is a healer, I’m gonna go get her, so you stay right there.”

He let consciousness fade.

  
x

  
An odd smell invaded his senses as a cool substance was smeared across his forehead, the wounds there stung sharply before settling and fading into nothing. He blinked awake, taking in the small room and modest furnishing, for some reason the lack of colour irked him.

Realisation kicked in a moment later. He tried to sit up, but the bandages made each movement stiff, he knew pain should be primary but he felt nothing, absolutely nothing, except sheer panic to get out of the unfamiliar space.

“Please! Calm down, you are not doing your wounds any favours.”

He snapped his neck to the side and took in a woman with worry creased into her forehead. He didn’t know her, he didn’t know where he was, he didn’t know how he ended up here, he... he didn’t know where he was before.

“Who are you?” He rasped, allowing her firm but gentle hands ease him back onto the raised bed.

“Someone who only wishes to help.” She readjusted a few of the bandages over his shoulders before sitting back, “You are on planet Soleli of the Nixiri system, my daughter found you on the beach near our home.”

He watched as she lifted the thin white sheet back over his waist and soothed it down, “I’m afraid what you might see below there is quite too much for someone who just escaped the clutches of death.”

“Death?” He panted, noticing the lack of feeling below his torso, “I died?”

She tossed thick green braids hanging over her shoulder behind her scaled neck, dark, pupil-less eyes examining him once more, “Several times actually. From observation your species seems to be rather feeble in the physical aspect.”

Species? He looked at his hands, the skin there was brown and smooth, littered with light abrasions and purple bruises. He looked at her, all light green scales and round features, “You’re an alien?”

Her lips parted in surprise, curious eyes studying his expression slowly and seriously.

“Actually mister, you’re on _our_ planet so _you’re_ the alien!”

He turned his head to the opposite side where a small, pouting girl stood with crossed arms and a petulant brow raised. “Who?” He asked, quiet enough that they didn’t hear him.

“Reuq,” She sighed, “What did I say about sneaking into my clinic while I have a patient?”

Reuq huffed, shuffling around the bed to take an argumentative stance, “Actually Momma it’s my patient, I’m the one who found it!”

The woman went to open her mouth but he interrupted, “He, not, um, I’m not an ‘it’. I’m a ‘he’.”

“Well then, he’s my patient.” Reuq said, “So I want to ask the questions.”

The woman looked at him apologetically, obviously embarrassed by her daughters stubbornness. He snorted lightly, for some reason it was nostalgic. “Are you going to interrogate me, squirt?”

“Squirt?” She hoisted herself onto the bed, “What’s a ‘squirt’?”

He blinked, taken aback by the question and his lack of an answer, “I- I don’t know.”

Reuq looked back at her mother who pulled a seat forward and sat in it with a note pad in hand, “What do you know?” She asked gently.

He stayed silent, a dull throb coming from the side of his head.

“What’s your name?” She tried again.

“My name?” His name, easy enough, his name is... His name. Why didn’t he know? He pushed hard, slamming against the mental barrier with all his might but came up empty, all he could remember was, “Blue.”

“That’s a weird name.” Reuq said, looking at him with sympathy. “You’re a weird guy.”

“Reuq, don’t be rude!”

“I’m not!”

Blue frowned. He lay in the hospital bed, knowing that the pain was tearing him apart but he couldn’t feel it, the woman had made sure of that. Instead he just sat, patiently awaiting his demise, contemplating.

Why couldn’t he remember?

x

His right leg was gone. Now nothing but a neat, stitched stub, cut off about mid thigh.

“You were out for eight quintants, I had a specialist come to amputate the extremity. I was able to salvage the other, but the internal structure of the right was damaged beyond repair, I did all I could.”

Blue didn’t blame Ofella, who he’d come to learn was the woman’s name. He didn’t really have anyone to pin the blame on seeing as he’d been diagnosed with amnesia. They tried to look for clues to his past life from what he was wearing when he showed up on Soleli, but all they found was pieces of battered and beaten armour, Ofella says perhaps he fought with the resistance and crash landed, resulting in his ship to be sunken in the ocean and he somehow being washed ashore. It was a viable theory, but didn’t seem to sit right with him, they went with it anyways.

Ofella says his memory could return any moment, and that it may start with smaller things, or come all at once. Reuq asks many questions, and he really did try to answer them. But it seems amnesia was still no match for a toddler with a curious mind.

Their home lay snug within the ridges of a gritted mountain range, the sorrel tones of the rock were ingrained with veins of fluorescent orange, which Ofella explained meant rain was due later that day. Beyond the mountains, to where the large windows of the house faced, was a small cove. Lush greenery rolled off the sand dunes and tried creeping up the rocks, before a small beach where gentle waves wet the sand came into view. It’s strange to think Reuq found him there, laying half way out of the water.

“I was as surprised as she,” Ofella said one evening, “The tide was dragging outwards that day, if you had landed in our waters you should have been sucked out along with your vessel, and that doesn’t even explain how you got out of the craft. You were verging death, Blue.”

“Maybe he fell from the sky!” Reuq offered, sitting in the floor beside Blue’s chair, “Like a meteor!”

“He wouldn’t be alive if he fell from the sky dear,” Ofella smiled at her warmly, “Gravity would have made sure of that.”

“Gravity is a smeg.”

“Language!”

“Smeg?” Blue huffed a laugh, “Is that a curse word here?”

“Yes.” Ofella said disapprovingly, “And Reuq knows that.”

“Maybe _I_ have amnesia!”

Blue laughed for the first time since he arrived three movements ago.

x

Solelian’s, Blue learnt, were extremely welcoming. While he thought it strange for a young woman to welcome him into her home and be around her daughter without the slightest knowledge of who he was, he couldn’t help but be thankful for it. Reuq said she trusted her Momma, and that she always knew who the baddies and the goodies were, while Blue just felt like he was taking advantage of their kindness.

“It’s really no trouble.” Ofella smiled softly, “Being a healer pays well, it’s hardly a dent in the savings.”

Blue threw his arms out in exasperation, it’s been two phoebs since he’d shown, and Ofella insisted on being the one to buy him a proper prosthetic in placement of his leg.  
  
“You’ve already welcomed me into your home, treated my injuries, fed me, kept me alive, I can’t ask this of you.” He groaned and hung his head, he felt utterly useless.

“You’re not asking me though, Blue.” Ofella sighed deeply, kneeling beside his chair and held his hand in both of hers, “I’m offering.”

Blue looked into her eyes, dark but so warm, “Why?”

Ofella didn’t say anything, they just stared each other down until Blue eventually gave in, if there’s one thing he’s learnt it’s that this Solelian never takes no as an answer, “I’ll work.” He said, “I’ll work until I can pay you back.”

She laughed, “There’s no need-“

“Yes there is!” He snapped lightly, “I owe you my life and am eternally grateful for everything you’ve done, but I will work to pay you back.”

Ofella pressed her forehead to his palm, “There’s so much life left in you, Blue. I can feel it. I just want you to be able to use it, to explore, to adventure. Not stay here in our small village and work for me, work of a debt that was never given to be paid.”

Blue shuddered through a smile, “Who says I want to leave? Maybe some day, but you and Reuq are the only people I’ve ever known. I don’t think I’m ready to leave the nest just yet.”

“You’re welcome for as long as you like, you are family now.”

x

People stared, and Blue couldn’t even blame them. Not for his difference in species, in fact many different races filled their planet, but because of that darned crash.

It’d left a large scar, jagged and branched like lightning. Thanks to Ofella’s talents, over time the intense purplish colour faded to a pale brown, it wasn’t as bad as at first, but it was still there. It begun behind his right temple, leaving small trails of scar tissue across the side of his head, before spreading along his face, the thickest line cutting through his brow and eye, the other smaller ones cording down his forehead and cheek in unceremonious patterns.

He had a star burst scar covering his back, slits over his forearms and waist and chest, all already there and healed when he had washed ashore. Ofella had dealt with those kinds of wounds before, predictable and easily dealt with, from modern weapons like swords and laser guns, the one in his back matching with what could of been the brunt end of an explosion.

But, in her words, the scar on his face wasn’t caused by any man made weapon - and people around here knew that.

The rumour mill spun, and the stares and whispered seemed more often then not. So he started hiding his face. At first with scarves and wraps, leaving only his eyes visible, the one with the intruding scar a slightly more pale blue (though not completely lost of vision due to the tonic Ofella whipped up).

Training soldiers came to town one movement, decked out in full armour, no race or scars discernible.

Blue joined the defence force. In the mornings he’d catch the tube to the inner city base, train all quintant, and then head home afterwards. In only a few phoebs he was considered one of the top marksmen Nixiri had ever seen. It came completely natural to him; though he‘s sure in his past life he must have trained non stop to work up the ability and is now just revitalising some sort of muscle memory. His fellow cadets and superiors praise him for it, but Blue knows he’s just freeloading off the effort of his previous self.

After a few phoebs the questions to why he never removed his uniform or helmet subsided, and that’s how it stayed.

The defence force didn’t exactly do much. They took on recon missions and went about villages to schools and workplaces demonstrating what to do if there were to be a Galran attack - Reuq got a huge kick out of it the quintant Blue showed up at her classroom door. Eventually he was promoted to the protection agency, he shadowed their system’s major politicians and highly recognised citizens during interplanetary exchanges, making a name for himself as one of the most sought after bodyguards.

Soleli lay outside of Zarkon’s reign, the nearest corrupted planet was hundreds of galaxies away (another thing that made Blue disbelieve the whole ‘fought with the rebellion’ theory). They were well prepared in the case of an invasion, but since no citizen actually ventured far enough to join the war effort they didn’t exactly know what to expect in terms of brutality. The Solelian government welcomes refugees, and from them they hear the stories about the raging war far far away.

Blue knows he and his fellow soldiers want to help, want to stop the Galran spread before it could reach their system (or any other system for that matter). They talk about it, about going out and joining the rebellion, surely a couple more hundred troops wouldn’t be denied, but they also know outwardly defying Zarkon would just place a target on their planet, and it wasn’t a risk anybody was willing to take.

Much like Ofella and Reuq, the rest of the people in their village (and in his cohort for that matter) were kind and welcoming to Blue, it took him by surprise in a way he didn’t expect. He was familiar and friendly with everybody, he had friends he went out after training with, and with his small family back in the mountains just outside of town, he’d take them out for dinner and to the park a couple times every movement.

Life was simple and magnificent.

Until Galran forces landed on Ram’Azak, the mother planet of their neighbouring system.

Goodbyes were hard.

“You stay safe.” Ofella had said, tears tracing the divots of her scaled cheekbones, stuffing packets of sweets into his duffle bag, “You come back.”

Xena never came back. Xena was Ofella’s partner of many decaphoebs, Reuq’s other parent, and a tradesperson with a rather large company that had unfortunately been on a swapmoon doing business when the Galra took disloyal visitors captive. There’s been no word for five decaphoebs, so everyone just assumed the worst.

“I will,” Blue whispered, standing at the door of his room watching as Ofella bustled and re-packed his bag, deeming what he’d first put in as ‘not good enough’.

Ofella stilled, lifting her shaking hands and placing them over her mouth turning and making her way over to press her face against Blue’s shoulder, “You better,” her voice cracking with the words, “I can’t handle losing someone else.”

Blue held her close, his best friend. This beautiful, amazing woman. He owed everything to her. To her and her daughter sleeping soundly in the room over. The two people he’d always come back for.

x

“I will.” He promised, gunshots coming thick like winter hail. The tin projectiles cutting through the frozen air, oblivious to their purpose. Each one rips into something, be it inanimate or living, spilling tree sap or blood with equal unfeeling.

The sun had begun it’s descent on the distant horizon, Blue’s eyes trailed it tiredly, the pain and numbness spreading from his shoulder had sunk bone deep, yet he’d kept on slinging the arms of his comrades around it. The sun left and it was a different kind of darkness - the stale kind that burns your tongue and clogs your throat with every inhale.

Through the dark he’d piled back to camp the dying soldiers on the field, natives and his own team alike. Not many could survive the fatal wounds their battle had afflicted. They’d been stranded for phoebs, systems down, ships damaged, communications cut off, left for dead and retreated in a thick jungle with the native civilisation loyal to the Galran empire, picking them off troop by troop from high up in the trees.

He and four other rebels were still up and about, tending to their injuries and burying the dead. Wynoa, or ‘Winnie’ as they insisted, stayed bent over on the computers, working together systems and panels in an attempt to create a functional communicator. So far, with the density of the tree tops and the thick atmosphere, there had been no such success.

“Aren’t you burning alive in there?” Nevaï asked, “Why don’t you strip down like the rest of us?”

Nevaï was a tall, wiry Jen’taka type alien. They were brutal in hand to hand combat, tall, with crazy hidden strength concealed behind those lanky limbs.

They were in nothing but a grimy should-be-white cloth wrapped snug around their chest and low rise brown shorts, Winnie had similar attire but foregone the binding cloth, claiming it too much hassle as their four arms worked tirelessly over humming technology.

Miaho was replacing bandages over a singeing burn on his own stomach, wincing as green oozed from the wound and into his tawny skin, “He’s smegging insane, that’s why.”

Blue snorted behind his helmet, wrapping shreds of fabric around the ends of thick branches, creating an enclosed shelter during a rare time of no intruding bullets, darts and arrows.

“Why don’t you show us ya face, huh?” Nevaï stared him down accusingly, sharpening the edge of their blade along the firm scales protruding from their forearms (utterly deadly during close combat), “It’s just us here now, we’ve known each other long enough.”

“Let it go.” Winnie said. “Do you really think you’re the first to try that kind of needless persuasion? I’m sure he has his reasons.”

Blue shot them a small smile, not that they could see it, but by the twitch upwards of their mouth, he’s somehow sure they got the sentiment.

“Yeah, like maybe he’s a Galra,” Miaho said over Nevaï’s grumbling.

With a scoff, Blue levelled the visor of his helmet with Miaho’s slitted eyes, “You don’t really think that,” He said.

“How would you know what I think sir captain sir?” Miaho mocked, he’d always been rather discontented with Blue’s appointed position, whether from jealousy or the general suspicion of Blue’s guarded behaviour, he wasn’t sure.

“I don’t,” Blue shrugged, “But I trust you.”

Miaho grinned widely as he adjusted the worn leather around the hilt of his blade, “Back at ya cap’.”

Blue knew he didn’t really think he was Galra - or at least he hoped. Miaho just liked proding and taking the shit out of him in an attempt to crack his exterior. It never worked, though maybe on the occasion Blue with clap him over the back of the head in retaliation.

They’d been together since the first movement of training, so over two decaphoebs ago, and had been close ever since. Winnie had been there too, whereas Nevaï joined them only a few phoebs prior to their mission, right as the real heat of battle had begun.

Blue took to it like a champ. Almost as though he’d been doing it for years, and maybe he had, after all he’d be the last person to know.

The others often came to him to lean on his shoulder, to share his company and sooth their concerns. He’d discovered he was good at it, good at dealing with people in general, good at reading body language and good at comfort.

Most often leeching off his presence was Ochre. Her species were typed as timid and shy, and she fit the part to the ‘T’. Their skin ranged between ivory and navy, hers being a smooth pearly blue, soft to the touch, and littered with specks of warm gold, much like the freckles on his own face, but infused with the sun themselves. Her hair was long and dark, often hanging in heavy braids down her back, contrasting almost familiarly with her eyes - a dark indigo.

She sat silently beside the spot where Blue worked, writing in a leather bound journal, something that was a rare sight seeing as most recorded their media into technology, and Blue found it somewhat comforting.

She wasn’t much of a fighter, yet always managed to evade any injury or direct conflict, Blue often wondered why she even joined the force, everything about her character screamed ‘not meant for war’, but it wasn’t his place to question. In the mean time, he couldn’t complain; she’d been an asset with hunting, a complete natural and often coming back after a varga or so with wildlife slung over her petite shoulders.

“What colour would you say your eyes are, Captain?” She asked quietly, accompanied by dead silence as the others stared on warily as he stoped his progress on the shelter.

He met her eyes, innocence and a sense of bluntness swimming in her irises like a gentle storm. He laughed slightly.

“Believe it or not, they’re blue.” He said.

Ochre nodded and went back to writing, a faint coral flush to her cheeks.

Miaho let out a heavy breath and broke the tension, “Next, we take off that damned helmet.”

Nevaï cracked up, “I can’t believe that just happened,” they chortled, “Ochre! You’re not-so-subtle tactic may just work, want to join forces?”

Ochre met their crazed grin with an almost suspicious expression, “I have yet to understand what your intentions would be with my allegiance.”

Nevaï blinked twice before their grin dropped and they groaned loudly, slumping against an upturned tree root, bigger then any of their fighter ships, “You’re such a stick in the mud.”

“Hey now,” Blue cut in, “There’s no time for your woe-is-me act, go collect some fire wood before the frost sets in.”

Blue caught Ochre’s small grin being directed his way, he lifted then dropped one of her braids as he walked past, a small action of subtle reassurance. As resigned as she is, she is still only young.

He elbowed Nevaï in the side and lugged a bow that a native had dropped over their shoulder, “Off you go,” He said, “Fire wood.”

Nevaï groaned, scales fluttering in frustration, before pointing at Miaho with an overly dramatic, affronted flourish, “Why doesn’t he have to?”

“Uh, excuse me,” Miaho squinted, pointing to his bandaged stomach, “I kind of got shot? With a gun?”

“Wimp.” They huffed, before turning on their heal and into the shrubbery.

“Wimp?!” Miaho yelled back in hysterics, “You come back here and I’ll pop ya one in the gut!”

He went back to muttering to himself indignantly, imitating their voice crudely, making Winnie snort and Ochre giggle behind her hand.

Nevaï came back with bags full of dry logs and grass a while later, they ate, then bunked down in the shelter, Blue took the first shift on night watch.

The frost came, settling over the wildlife and creeping across the outside of the thick shelter. He sat by the opening, large leaves about the height of himself being used as a door flap. Ochre lay beside him, they had been up talking before she slipped into slumber and curled into his side, shivering slightly, even with Blue’s blanket over her shoulders.

The planet had two moons visible at night, covering about half the sky in a startlingly orange display. It was quiet, the only noise the crackle their low flame fire and the rustling of the trees high above.

Just as he was about to shake Nevaï awake for their turn, the communication panel sparked to life, on the screen a familiar ‘V’ shaped symbol popped up.

_Voltron._


	2. Chapter 2

Details. Keith loved in details.

When Lance looked at him it was as if every ounce of breath was taken from his lungs floating into the air like midnight smoke. Every time he kissed him it felt like the world stopped, leaving just the two of them to wander the earth together. Every time Lance held his face between his hands it felt like he was untying all of his knots. Holding Keith for eternity in the arms he’d grown so accustomed to. 

That’s what falling in love was like, a story Keith never wanted to end. For so long he’d unknowingly longed for it, for so long he’d feared it, feared the storm his heart would undertake in the clasp of someone who it completely belonged to.

But he came to learn that not all storms come with the intent of ripping up your roots just to destroy you, some clear a path to make way for better growth. 

Lance was unpredictable, vibrant and patient and kind in a way most people could never grasp; he bled through others’ wounds and carried the weight of the universe on his shoulders. 

He took his time turning Keith’s pages, learning and loving him all the more with each chapter, and where there were walls, he softened them. Lance opened his eyes to myriad possibilities. Through all the pain and destruction they witnessed and endured together, he always had a curiosity for the future, for a life he wished everyone to enjoy.

Keith loved him, god he did. Even now, years after he’d been so cruelly taken away, he still loved him like they were just beginning.

When Hunk got married they saved a seat at the head of the table for the rightful best man, and when Colleen Holt fell ill and passed Pidge had said she trusted Lance to lead her into the light. Shiro was sometimes found on the observation deck aimlessly watching the holographic Earth spin just as Lance had done beside him countless times before, they’d became closer as they’d gotten older, both suffering PTSD and finding solace in their late night discussions. 

Allura stopped having beauty nights filled with face masks and gossiping, it had been Lance she’d first opened up to about her pain and loss and now he was gone. Coran scrubbed the castle for a movement straight to try and distract himself, before eventually breaking down in the common room one night when he accidentally set out an extra bowl without realising his mistake.

Lance was a death that had rocked each of them to the core. They all missed him. The Castle wasn’t the same without his presence; and that’s why Keith left.

He visited as often as he could, but never stayed for long. It was just too painful too handle the sadness that suffocated the castle, too painful to relive all the memories he associated with its walls.

“Lieutenant, I have an urgent message from the Princess of Altea.”

Keith turned from his tablet, looking up to meet an armoured Blade member with his fist over his chest - a sign of respect.

Keith straightened his slouched posture, “At ease, cadet.” He said, saving the file he’d been reading through, “Report.”

The Blade fell into a more relaxed position and held out a small drive. Keith plugged it into his tablet and immediately a coded message started being translated through the Blade’s internal system.

 

**A-7j9-BMXoP**

_Keith,_

_It’s at the utmost importance you report to the rebel HQ ASAP. We trust you remember the coordinates._

_See you there._

 

“Prepare my fighter ship and round up my generals.” He unplugged the drive, dropped it and crushed the small disc under his heel, “I’m headed to rebel head quarters per Voltron’s request.”

“Yes sir.” He Blade saluted and scurried away.

Keith sighed heavily and pressed a hand to his flushed forehead, he’s always gone red whenever he over thought situations, and Voltron summoning him to head quarters is not something that happens all that often, most times it means bad news in the war scheme of things, a major loss or travesty that always takes a swipe at his composure.

“Quiznak,” he hissed, kicking away the remnants of the disc, “Just great.”

x

The table was long and curved, in the centre stood the Rebel Leader Merena, a burly woman with scaled skin and slitted eyes. The way she held herself reminded Keith of a snake, beautiful but deadly all the same. She was swiping through holo screens with frustration in her brow, sending out what looked like transmissions with no receiving end.

He made his way to Allura, who hadn’t seemed to age a day no matter how long they went between visits, “Keith,” she said, her tone heavy and tired, “I’m glad you got our message, it does seem to be you’re getting harder to reach with every decaphoeb that passes.”

He was happy to see her, especially away from the castle. “It isn’t on purpose, I assure you.” _Not consciously anyways._

“You’d better hope so.” Allura gripped his hand and squeezed it, “We miss you, your visits have became less and less frequent, I do hope you take to calling in more often.”

“It’s hard, there’s a lot of work to be done with the Blades.” Keith sighed and squeezed back, “But I’ll try.”

It hadn’t become a rare occurrence for Keith to make a promise he couldn’t keep, especially to his old friends. It seemed to assure her anyway, even if they’d done this tense back and forth for many decaphoebs with no real outcome; if anything, he stayed further away.

“Well if it isn’t Mr Big Shot.”

Keith turned to greet Pidge, a small smile splitting his face, “Hey, Pidge.”

Pidge had hit a growth spurt around age seventeen and shot up another foot, her hair grew out to below her shoulders and she’d ditched the placebo glasses after a shard of glass cut below her eye after a particularly harsh battle.

“How’re the Blades treating you?” She asked, taking a seat next to the one he was still standing behind. 

Allura had migrated to discussion with some rebel generals in a far corner, so he pulled out the chair and settled, glad he had his fellow anti-social friend to look busy with.

“Not too bad,” he shrugged, “Busy, as can be expected, the loss of our Tren’zak branch was a devastation but we’ve rebounded accordingly.”

Pidge nodded, eyes flickering across his face as if to find a break in his reserve, “You look like shit.”

He let out a startled laugh at her bluntness, “Well, Galran beds aren’t all that comfortable, you know.” _I still can’t sleep alone._

“Oh yeah,” she groaned and rubbed at her back, “I never want to see one of those bad boys again, what kind of freaks of nature don’t need mattresses?”

“Aliens, apparently.” He said.

Pidge snorted, before turning to face Merena, the light in her eyes flickering out, turning into a seriousness he’s seen more and more often over the years.

“What do you think has happened?” She asked.

Keith glanced at her, “I thought you’d have known.”

“No,” she groaned, “Seems not even I can break through my own firewalls. Damn I’m impressive.”

Keith rolled his eyes fondly and pulled out his holopad as the people in the room began taking their seats and Merena waited patiently with a resigned look.

“I thank you all for joining us here today,” she begun, a screen rising behind her head, “As most of you know, around four phoebs ago we sent an elite squadrant of rebels into the Disprin sector of Q’mak.”

Keith remembered hearing of this, it was a report that brushed his desk briefly, he skimmed it and forwarded the passage to the generals. He feels a strange sort of regret for not reading it more thoroughly, but one of their largest branches Tren’zak had just been eradicated and that was more his focus of the movement.

“They were tasked with the mission to infiltrate the Galran headquarters on Marlin, the largest moon of the system, with the knowledge that the Druids were rehearsing dark magic and conforming robeasts of new greatness and power.”

An image of the moon and multiple security footages popped in the screen, Keith scanned them sharply and took note of the unusual increased amount of guards. Dark magic itself was a scornful thing, not something many magic wielders would dabble in, only those corrupted and possessed by quintessence would go that far as to tap into it.

The thought of robeasts successfully forged from its depths is a terrifying reality, as could be read on Merena’s face.

“They were successful, our Captain was able to obtain the information of their database in a near indestructible drive that only I can access, but not without consequence.”

Profiles of those part of the elite team came to view, twenty-four in total, all but six had the ‘deceased’ red writing above their head. From the corner of his eye, he saw Allura avert her gaze to the table below her finger tips. Even now, death affected her greatly.

“Unfortunately, an Invading battle crossed their path during extortion, and they were dragged into its heat. Before this, twelve of our rebels remained. From what we can gather from time stamps, three were killed during this rage.”

An Invading battle meant an active show down between two parties, usually opposing forces, in an open space fight that could of been going for hours or days or weeks. Keith himself has had the misfortune of being on the losing end of these during his time with the Blades, and even a few while piloting Voltron. It not something anyone really wants to get involved with.

“After that, we have nothing.” She bought up the communication lines between each of the surviving rebels, six lines of white noise, “If they were dead the translation chips we implant in each of our soldiers would tell us so, but as you can see, they are not. They have seemed to gotten stuck in a communication deteriorating environment, perhaps stranded or held hostage, as of this moment, we are unsure. But before they went off the grid we received this transmission from the Captain.”

She pressed a button on a small remote and a grainy video played over. It was a rebel with a tinted helmet covering their face, they seemed to be in the heat of battle, voice breaking under the wield of concentration.

_“This is Blue, reporting in from smeg-knows-where, navigation systems went down a while ago, as well as the communication line, I’m hoping this will transmit - woah! That was way too close. I’m hoping this will transmit successfully. Our current standpoint is open battle with an Invading party, firepower is coming down on us seven hundred percent more than we can retaliate with. I am in possession of the drive, it is currently safe, but won’t be if I don’t survive this, and the possibility is looking bleak. If you are to find my body, you will find the drive. This is Blue, tell my family I love the-“_

The footage cut off suddenly, just as Blue appeared to be saying their goodbyes. Keith looked away, he knew what it was like to not be able to say goodbye.

Merena cleared her throat, “Blue is not dead, and I doubt that tough son of a smeg will be any time soon.”

A chorus of rebel attendees raised their fists and chuckled between themselves.

“Have you contacted the families?” Pidge spoke up, her mouth soothed into a straight line, dead serious to the core. She uses her spare time to reunite families, always hoping that one day her own will too.

“They have yet to be subjected to the information,” Merena admitted, “We intend on sending out messages after we have retrieved the drive, at the moment this mission is of top secrecy.”

“And what exactly are we here for?” Keith asked, something about the whole thing rubbed him the wrong way, how she seemed to only care for the drive and not the people who died collecting it’s worth.

Merena locked their gazes, she turned off the screen that held a static communication line between her and Blue, “We want Voltron’s help. It has been three phoebs since our last solid contact and all reconnaissance missions have so far failed. Voltron is currently the only machine documented that has the ability of defeating druid produced robeasts, and if we want an upper hand in this war, we need that drive.”

“I hate to interject,” Allura rose from her seat with ever the controlling air, “But Voltron has only ever faced robeasts forged with quintessence, not dark magic. The realm of its capabilities are unexplored and untouched by our own deliberation, it could quite possibly wipe out Voltron with the weak state we are currently in.”

‘Weak state’ meaning the loss of Lance several years ago, and Shiro’s current holiday to Earth, acting as a diplomat and indulging in some well deserved rest.

“We acknowledge your current predicament, Princess.” Merena nodded and walked forward to meet her face to face, “But the loss of this information would be detrimental in every sense of the word.”

They held their stare for a few moment longer, before Allura turned to Keith, “And what do you think, Keith?” _Is it worth it?_

“I will pilot a lion if need be, Princess.”

In the back of his mind, he felt an indistinct purr greet his response, and he knew he’d be welcomed back into Red’s cockpit.

“Pidge?” Allura asked.

“If anyone can do it, it’s us.” Pidge nodded, a sly grin on her face.

“Then it is settled. Voltron is at your aid, Merena.”

Merena grinned, showing her pointed teeth and split tongue, “Perfect.”

 

x

 

Using the data available to them, Pidge was able to pin point a near-exact location as to where the remaining squad could be. She settled it to a small cluster of planets revolving around a miniature star not far from their last known location.

“I’m picking up on some strange sequences coming from the planet Verankia, the atmosphere has recently been disturbed with unfamiliar technology waves, almost like a home made device, hm.”

With Pidge tapping away for a mere varga she had done more than the Rebel’s had the entire time, not surprising since the Rebellion were not exactly a technology based force, and nobody can surmount to Pidge and her ‘super computer’.

Merena stood, “Then we must leave at once.”

“Hold your horses, lady.” Pidge dismissed her immediately, “We can’t just go in guns-a-blazing, this planet is loyal to the Galran empire, and inhabited by an extremely fortifiable species. I’m going to attempt contact through this tech someone has created, presumably a rebel as it has similar work patterns, and then we can take action and shoot it all up or whatever.”

Merena sat, embarrassed almost of being put in place by a younger woman, “Will do.” She said.  
Pidge continued on, “Oop, this just in. Verankia has an unstable core, meaning that intense on-ground combat is not such a good idea. I was, once again, correct with the assumption for a subtle approach.”

“Woah, easy Pidge.” Hunk cut in, holding a tray of small quiche-esk foods, “Someone’s cranky.”

“Well you try dealing with a sonic resistant atmosphere and a home made computer, Hunk.” Pidge muttered under her breath

Hunk had been off with Shay on a mission at the time of the meeting, and had arrived shortly after its end after an urgent call back. Keith chuckled lightly and took a quiche, “Hey Hunk.” He said.

“Hey Keith.” He smiled, “Always good to see you.”

“You too.” He said, before going back to scrolling through reports and statistics.

“Ah-ha!” Pidge shouted in triumph, “Connection has been made, I’ve edited the programming they were using so it’s stable. Peridatory, pfft, with scrap? What an amateur.”

Hunk leant over her shoulder to read the indistinguishable scrawl covering the screen, “You have to use visuals?” He asked, “Are we going to send a video transmission? Do they have audio?”

Pidge batted him away, “Well the screen they’ve salvaged doesn’t do well with formal methods, so we may have to. It wasn’t made for textual transmit, and yes they have audio.”

“Well, if they switched the coronal hardrive with the amenia and it would be-“

“Engineering talk, no no.” Pidge said, “I’ve got us as far as we can go at this point in time, now, what are we going to say?”

It seemed all eyes turned to Keith.

“Okay, give me a mic.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer:
> 
> Remember, I try to write from each character perspective as though it’s their own conscious talking, thinking, viewing and comprehending. I also like mixing around perspectives so you can get different angles from situations. There are scenes in this chapter that may be confusing and out of character but this fic is going to be long with quite a windy plot (literally its all I think about, I have big plans). I hope you enjoy!

Blue’s absence was cognate to an open wound. Reuq was distant, Ofella regularly observed her from the windows as she meandered up and down the shoreline, flipping over rocks and shells with sticks, and kicking at the shallow waves that brushed her bare feet. She was down there often, almost like she was waiting for Blue to wash up upon the sand once more.

It ached at every maternal bone in her body to see her daughter in such distress, to watch as such a lively child pushed away her dinner and waited by the communicator for hours on end. They hadn’t received a call in many phoebs, Blue would once check in quintaintly, it was routine. Ofella and Reuq would curl into the cushions by the line and talk to him for vargas. Reuq would chatter about school and discuss how her friendship bracelet selling business at school was doing (something Ofella would not usually condone, but Blue had taught her how to weave the strings together and it was something her daughter held dear, even if now she was now having other children trade three sweets per bracelet). Blue would laugh and talk about all the planets he was visiting and the new cultures he got to experience, Reuq would beg to come visit, and Blue would say, “Maybe one quintaint.”

Reuq would eventually tire and say her teary goodbyes, always complete with many ‘I miss you’s and ‘I love you’s. Then Ofella and Blue would talk for a while more about the war and the harrowing atrocities Blue was really facing. He would sometimes cry as he spoke of the devastation happening to unfortunate war victims, and how he spent his free time helping in the hospitals and in reparations. Ofella would tell him about the influx of injured and sick refugees she tended to, Soleli had set up many camps to host them, most of which were filling quickly. Then they would sit and listen to the other breathe for a while more. “Come back,” she would say, “I will.” He’d reply.

She trusted him to keep the promise, to return in one piece (minus a leg, but that’s acceptable) and reunite their small family once more. It wasn’t hard to admit she very much needed him. He was her best friend, and took a huge role in raising Reuq in the decaphoebs he’d been with them. And Reuq just adored him, idolised him. Ofella herself had a worldly appreciation for all he’d done, he was the link they’d been missing since Xena was killed.

Xena was the love of Ofella’s life, and their time together was cut short so cruelly; a future lost to the ever hungry destruction of war.

Blue hadn’t been in contact for phoebs, and worry plagued her. It was completely out of character for her to mull over things so heavily, but she never realised how dependant both her and her daughter had become on his reassurance. He was like that, the steady in the storm, someone you wanted to latch onto and never let go of because you know he’d protect you no matter what. Ofella loved him, she really did, in a way that was confusing and crossed many wires in her brain. She wasn’t sure what kind of love she felt for him... many many kinds she presumed, all muddled together in a haze where you cannot pin point an exact answer. She missed him. How he’d light up any room he entered and made them laugh until Reuq snorted and Ofella’s stomach would ache. He was just like that. He was family.

The night air was dense and tasted salty in her mouth, the moons were out and scattered amongst the stars, their mangatas casting a open path across the calm waters of the cove. She let the water brush up to her ankles, dampening the ends of her loose pants, before drawing back out into the ocean.

Ofella sometimes wondered how it was Blue ended up here, and in small selfish moments thought perhaps some higher power had sent him to her. Someone knew she needed him. 

But he wasn’t here anymore, and Ofella didn’t allow herself to consider possibilities as to why he’d stopped calling. She couldn’t let herself think about that.

“He will.” She whispered, just he always promised. He will find a way to make it back, she knew in her heart he was alive.

A large shell caught her eye, she leant over and picked it up. The veins of the mountains were a brilliant yellow, it was the time of the decaphoeb that the ocean would push forth gifts. In a few movements locals would start stopping by to graze the beach for shells and stones, and just like every other decaphoeb, she would hand out drinks and enjoy picnics with friends and strangers alike. 

Blue was always the centre of attention at such events. Children, women, men, they’d all flock towards him and try to dissect his mind. Women giggled and regarded him as an alluring mystery, while Ofella would snort to herself - he was a damn mystery, but the thing was he didn’t even know the answers to all their questions himself.

“Smegging amnesia.” She huffed and tossed the shell to her left. It hit the sand with a unusual cling. 

Ofella frowned and pressed her foot into the sand cautiously, only it wasn’t sand, something hard was beneath it. It wasn’t unusual for scrap to be washed ashore during the oceans giving cycle.

“I better get rid of this before Reuq cuts herself on it.” She mumbled to herself before leaning down to brush away the thin layer of sand covering the scrap over. 

The piece wasn’t too big, about the size of a torso. A chest plate. Shaped and rounded like armour should be, she squinted through the dark, but the scrap was covered in filth. 

Ofella placed it in the water and rubbed it down, before standing back up to view it. Blue and white, with singed marks of black that looked like burns here and there. And right before her eyes, a symbol that no matter what she’d always recognise.

 

x

 

“Tzgani? Yes, it’s Ofella. I’m calling in that favour.”

 

x

 

The man’s eyes were giving a glare that was freezing Blue’s bones, and for a moment, he felt himself pinned down, like an insect under a microscope. They were so dark, Blue felt like he could fall through the screen into that endless stretch of midnight sky, but they were the type of darkness that wasn’t _dark_ ; the sweet silence before dawn, the shield and sword of a soul. Blue had never seen anything like them, more specifically, he’d never felt anything like the emotions they afflicted in his chest. 

He didn’t know this man, he was sure of it. Blue wasn’t the type to forget laying eyes on such an effortless beauty; outgrown bangs hanging loose over his face, a grey scar lacing his right cheek, dark brows and a strong jaw. Blue realises he should be listening to what he is saying, the first face he’s seen out of their small surviving group in phoebs, but sometimes life gives you shallower contemplations.

How can he focus when the ache of familiarity was so powerful? Something Blue had never suffered through. He’d always wanted to remember something, just something, anything, a minor detail, his name even. He longed for the day... he didn’t expect it to be so painful. To have a force in his mind edging into his conscious but never being quite comprehensible, it was almost like trying to recall a dream. 

It hung like a guillotine over his head, the first sense of clarity that went beyond a four decaphoeb span. The blunt blade grazed the base of his neck, but never quite enough to draw blood. Incomplete in way that left a neurotic feel cramping your chest.

“Blue! You got it working! How did you get it working? Who is that?”

Wynoa pushed him out of the way roughly, all four limbs at work as they hurried to race across the panel under the screen.

Blue’s head spun, he knelt to the ground and wished he could feel the dew laden grass brushing his knees, he needed to feel _something_. He heaved behind the visor of his helmet, before a stir in his stomach rose to his throat encouraged by the chorus of dawn, and then he vomited.

 

x

 

“This is Keith, Paladin of Voltron and Head of the Blade of Marmora, if I am communicating with the elite squadrant sent to Disprin several phoebs ago, please acknowledge confirmation.”

The room was silent, a grainy image of jungle growth and a rather large moss coated tee-pee sitting dead still on the over head screen. The communicator someone had made was clearly covered in large lush leaves, perhaps to protect it from the frost Pidge had told them covers the entire planet for hours during the night.

“I repeat, this is Keith, I am with the Rebel leader Merena, if there is anyone there belonging to the elite squad sent to Disprin, make yourself known.” Keith sat with air filling his lungs, as though if he exhaled it would disrupt the fragile connection. 

Something shifted, a humanoid figure stepped out from the wooden structure, clad in full armour. That image saved and immediately passed through analysis, micro-inspectors tracing the outline of the body. A rebel technician broke the silence, “That is Blue, squadrant Captain, confirmed.”

“Okay,” Keith breathed in unison with everyone else in the room, “Bring me up, Pidge.”

“Already on it.” She said, clicking a few more times, “You are visible.”

“Blue, this is Keith, Paladin of Voltron and Head of the Blade of Marmora. I am here with Rebel leader Merena. We want to discuss the possibility of your extraction and confirm the possession of the disc with obtained dark magic information.”

Blue approached the screen, then stopped and simply stood.

“Blue? Are you in a safe place to talk?”

No response.

“Is it frozen?” Merena asked, squinting over Pidge’s shoulder.

“No.” Pidge groaned, frustration curving her mouth downwards, “I don’t know why he isn’t talking.”

“Is it the helmet?” Hunk spoke up, “That’s a pretty full on helmet, I also noticed he’s wearing it in his identification photo. Or is it not a helmet? Is that just his face? Is he a robot? Do robots even have pronouns?”

“Blue has classified reasons for shielding his identity, those of which do not lie with us.” Merena stated, but a clearly annoyed tone shifted the sentiment.

“Blue, please indicate we are making contact.”

Again, no indication of coherence whatsoever.

“Sounds like you wish you knew.” Pidge snorted.

One of Merena’s generals cut in when the leader herself went red with indignation, “He’s been an enigma since the day he arrived, yes, but is an exceptional marksman and an ideal leader. We have all the information needed to put him in the system, and I myself was present the day he received his chip. His body is flesh, not that of technology.”

“Still not buying it, definitely a robot.” Hunk whispered into Pidge’s ear, who in turn choked around her space-coffee.

“Pidge, Hunk, manners.” Allura hissed, an appalled look on her face. 

She was always the one to uphold professionalism no matter the situation. Though Keith remembers her once having these childlike tenancies, starting food fights and allowing the mice to put her hair in wild styles. 

Just like Lance once said, “Everyone is shaped by some incredible sadness.” It was late into the night, they were in bed but not a tired eye between them, Lotor’s betrayal against Voltron and against Altea had been revealed, but his past and childhood had been too. Those words have been with Keith for years, he’ll never forget them.

“Blue, please respond if you are able.”

Another figure emerged from the tent, incredibly tall with multiple arms either side of their shoulders, they were yelling something but it couldn’t be heard. The figure rushed towards the screen and Blue stumbled to the side before falling to his knees.

“Microphone activated. Hello, hello?”

A slight cheer went through the room when the soldier’s voice filtered through clearly, “Elite squad member, Wynoa Ax, confirmed.”

“Hello Wynoa, this is Keith, I am with the Rebel leader Merena, we would like to discuss your extraction and the confirmation of the disc.”

Wynoa looked manic in expression, movements jerky and all over the place, “Keith? Keith! Hello! Voltron? Whoa. Okay, yes. Discuss. We all want out. Nevaï! Miaho! Ochre! Get out here! Blue get off the damn ground! Voltron is on the communicator!”

Merena grabbed the microphone and yanked in front of her, the camera following in suit, “Can you confirm the location of the disc? Where is Blue?”

Wynoa looked at the ground as three more figures emerged from the tee-pee, “I don’t know what’s wrong with him, maybe he’s in shock.”

A small feminine alien ran to Blue and knelt beside him slightly out of shot, “He’s conscious.” She said, “But he seems to have regorged his dinner.”

A tall, yellow alien with spider like eyes gagged, “He vomited? In his helmet? Gross.” 

“Should I take it off?” The one kneeling said.

“Not unless you want him to... I don’t know, slaughter you?” A masculine alien with owl-ish features yelped, a small knife curled in his fist.

“He wouldn’t kill me, Miaho.”

“You’re right, he’d kill us all! He can deal with his soiled helmet when he snaps out of it.”

“Nevaï?”

The yellow alien threw up their hands in surrender, “Don’t look at me. I’d rather keep all my limbs, thank you.”

“Ochre, for smeg’s sake just sit him up and knock on his head a few times, he’s a big boy he will be fine.” Wynoa turned back to the camera, “I’m so sorry, he isn’t usually like this.”

“No offence taken.” Keith replied, guiltily amused by the ordeal, “Now, we have the coordinated for your location, but it is very deep into the jungle sector of the planet, do you know your way out of there?”

Miaho shook his head, “Being out in the open was way too dangerous, we needed coverage and this is what we got. There were originally nine of us down here, five of the Invading rebels survived, but died not too long after we set up camp. Blue wouldn’t stop showing up with another one over his shoulder, not just Rebels, natives too. Crazy son of a smeg almost got himself killed a dozen times, insisted on burying them all in this field an varga or so’s hike away, don’t know why.”

Blue’s character just kept on becoming more and more confounding, and with that, confusing. The man himself was sitting up against a tree, staying quiet as Miaho talked. Ochre was seated beside him with crossed arms and an annoyed glare forced Miaho’s way, “Just because you don’t have a heart.” She snided.

“Maybe not, but at least I have a face! And blood, and bones. Smegging android.”

Ochre was quick in her actions to stand and kick Miaho roughly in the stomach, “Great,” He doubled over with a groan, “Now I have a boot print on my kidney.”

“Serves you right.”

“Real mature, guys.” Nevaï droned, “What a great impression we are leaving on, oh I don’t know, probably the most influential people in the universe? Truely making a name for ourselves.”

Keith rubbed two fingers against his temple and sighed, “This field, how big would you say it is?”

“Big enough for five or so fighter ships, but not a battle cruiser.” Wynoa said.

Pidge expanded a screen to the right of the communication line, a small open field from satellite view stark amongst the thick jungle, “I’ve run the data, extraction from that point is possible.” She said.

Keith nodded, “We can fit all of you inside an escape pod, we will also use the updated camouflage mechanisms Pidge has designed to act it out efficiently. Be at that point in two vargas. We will be waiting.”

Wynoa cracked a relieved smile, “Understood.”

Merena stood suddenly, lifted the lens and hissed into it, “Does he have the disc or not?”

She’d been getting impatient the whole while, the repetitive tapping of her foot almost over powering the light mood of being able to bring survivors home, of being able to get an upper hand in the war. She was desperate. He supposed they all were, everybody wanted this thing to be over, but her fixation on that disc didn’t sit quite right, at least not with Keith.

Blue had stood and walked away at some point, but appeared in that moment with a more light-weight helmet secured over his face. “I’ll give you the disc, Merena. Once we find Nyarri and Savial.”

Merena ran her split tongue over pointed teeth, “Don’t be distracted by emotional baggage, Blue. You will give me that disc.”

“Nyarri and Savial are two key aspects of our team’s integrity, they will be found and bought home with us.”

Miaho stepped forward and dragged Blue back, “They’re dead, Blue. We watched them go down.”

“I can see their communication lines,” Blue grunted and shook him off, “If they’re dead, why are their chips active?”

Sure enough, from Merena’s acutely angled stance, a screen with the seven active bars was visible. Five of which belonged to their small camp, and two others they seem to have thought to be dead.

Nevaï stopped fiddling with her blades and walked over, “He’s right.” She said, and stabbed her knife into a tree to the kilt, “The mission before the individual? Sounds very Marmoran-esque to me. I thought that form of collegiality had been abolished by none other than the halfling himself.”

Miaho’s round eyes flashed in alarm, burning orange flames overtaking the usual calm brown, a sign his species was undergoing severe stress, “Nevaï I swear to smeg if your smart mouth leaves us stranded in this quiznaking jungle I will rip your fingernails out one by one.”

“Nyarri and Savial are alive?” Wynoa whispered to no one in particular, “They’re out there all alone.”

“Maybe they’re together.” Ochre said, inching towards Blue who had taken to pushing his team behind him almost protectively.

“Together or not they’re coming home with us,” he said, “We’re a team.”

“Unfortunately the odds stand true.” Keith replied, “We have no way of locating them and the disc happens to be in your possession.”

“You’ll get the disc once we have our team mates back.” Nevaï snapped.

Merena laughed and shook her head, “I think you’re forgetting who exactly is in power here. We have the ability to bring you home to your families, or to leave your dead bodies down there on Verankia. You decide.”

“That’s funny,” Blue snorted, “Because I have the ability to do this.” He pressed a small section of his armour and a small cube ejected. Merena shifted to the edge of her seat. He took it between his fingers and rolled it around, “Indestructible you say? I think you’re bluffing.”

“You know what losing that information would do. You will be stripped of your rank, of your legacy, and charged for treason.”

“I don’t think you understand how little that means to me.” Blue shrugged and put the disc back into his chest plate, “The escape pod you bring better be weaponised, fuelled, with fully functioning automotive systems. Even one of those lions and a Paladin will do. But I will tell you now, without the entire of my surviving team you won’t get the information you need.”

“If I may interject,” Allura stood, her eyes set coldly onto the screen, “I believe you’re making demands well beyond your jurisdiction. The knowledge on that disc is worth more than this pointless argument.”

Blue was silent for several moments, to Keith, his lack of words built up to millions; like he knew something they didn’t. He wished he could look into his eyes in this moment, he itched to see beyond the mask.

“Two vargas, Princess. You know my conditions.”

Blue raised his hand and fired a small hand gun, the line cut out.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Space Language Dictionary:**  
>  Tick: Second   
> Dobosh: Minute  
> Varga: Hour  
> Quintant: Day  
> Movement: Week  
> Pheob: Month  
> Decaphoeb: Year  
> Quiznak: Fuck/Shit (hahahah quiznak you Voltron creators I’m giving the fandom the curse words we deserve)  
> Smeg: Fuck/Shit (yeehaw)
> 
>  **Made Up Lingo Lols:**  
>  Invading Battle: a battle that has been raging for a long time in open space and may interfere with other happenings. The people involved in Invading Battles could be in a severely damaged mental state from prolonged isolation and constant anxiety levels

“What have you done?”

Blue met the stunned eyes of his team, even Ochre had a disbelieving curve to her mouth.

“What’s right.” He said.

 

x

 

Ofella first sees her through the dark windows of the Tavern. Seated alone and sipping slowly from a tall, thin glass filled with yellowed liquid. It was strange meeting with Tzgani outside of the hospital, her usual sterile nurses attire replaced by form fitting leather basically melted against her skin. Ofella glanced down at her loose paisley skirt that brushed her ankles and wondered if she hadn’t entirely done enough research on the environment she was stepping into.

The Tavern was a small building tucked into the side of a knoll. Ofella knew that Blue sometimes visited it with fellow cadets after they stepped off the tube, and would come home later and speak of the stories he was told by well travelled folk; their adventures and their time spent in other systems before they settled on Soleli to retire. 

Blue never ceased to be amazed by such tales, like swimming in a lake who’s bed couldn’t be seen from its coverage of golden coins, hiking mountains of solid crystal, or sailing over a sea of rolling cobalt. Ofella often wished for him to be able to experience them in his own right, not just through the lips of a stranger or from a whisper heard across the bar.

Ofella placed her hand on the rough paintwork that coated the door and pushed. Aged wood splintered into her palm and shards of red paint crumbled to the floor. The hinges squealed as though they were a warning, but their plea was silenced by a wall of noise. Laughter overpowers the jukebox. Conversations swirl in a dirty cloud of smoke, the stale stench of cigarettes hides within the collaboration of mephitic odours. A sharp smell of alcohol washed over her like black plumes of smoke bellowing from the windows of a burning house. 

Though not at all appealing by standard terms, something about the atmosphere was attractive. A sense of homeliness and comfort sat above all, the hearts of people pouring through knowledge and wisdom. Ofella tried to picture Blue sitting on one of the brown leather bar stools, and could see him there, laughing through the cover of his helmet and listening with rapt attention to the commotion around him, not missing a single word.

Tzgani’s gaze catches hers from across the room. Her eyes reminded Ofella of ashes being tossed within the breeze, alive and stirring in a mixture of grey. A honed smile that sent grown men running curved her lips; which were stained a deep wine in comparison to her mauve complexion. She raised her glass in Ofella’s direction and gestured to the spare sofa in front of her.

Onlookers stared, a native going to sit with a Galra seemed to be quite the scandal. No matter how diverse Soleli’s population was to become from the ingress of refugees every quintant, no Galra, let alone a halfling, was ever going to enter a community and have the complete trust of everyone in it.

“Ofella.” She greeted, her dark hair catching the light as she tilted back her head to finish off her glass, kindred to midnight waves curling on the shore as it rolled off her shoulders, “You asked and I have delivered.” Everything about her was held with elegance infused beauty. “I am here to offer my services to you.”

Ofella gripped her thickly crocheted bag tighter to her chest, all too aware of the Tavern’s patrons’ eyes examining their every move, “I don’t think we can talk about it... Not here at least.”

“Oh,” Tzgani’s smile tightened, now reading the mood Ofella was giving off. Her eyes narrowed, “What exactly is going, are you in some sort of trouble?”

“No,” Ofella frowned in confusion, “I told you I needed to show you something. Something serious. It’s to do with Blue.”

“Of course it is.” Tzgani laughed dryly, and shook her head as she snatched a drink from a passing waitress, “How could I be so foolish?” She spoke quieter, almost to herself.

“What did you think I meant?” Ofella huffed, “I really do need your help.”

“Seems we’ve arrived into this meeting with different intentions, my dear Ofella.” She then proceeded to scull the remaining of her drink before flashing a more genuine grin. “Come on,” She said, raising from her seat and offering a hand, “Let’s get out of here then, so you can show me this mystery item.”

They left the Tavern, the clean summer night air refreshed Ofella and her mind, she let it rid her senses of stagnant smoke and spilt spirits. Perhaps just a little too relieved to be back in the open, guilted that she’d even asked to leave the place Tzgani had put effort into meeting her at.

“Doesn’t it bother you?” Ofella asked after they’d walked in silence for a while, following the path made by moonlight along the darkened backstreets.

Tzgani glanced at her through terraces of inky hair, “Does what bother me?”

“The way people stare,” she said, “I don’t know if I could live with it.”

“Not really, I know I haven’t done anything wrong.” She shrugged and looked up into the sky. 

Ofella watched the star’s lustre reflect in her eyes and set them ablaze. She took a deep breath and hoped the flush in her cheeks wasn’t too noticeable, “If they knew how good of a healer you are I’m sure they’d be rightly put in their place,” she said, “Actually I’d say you’re one of the best nurses I have on hand at the centre.”

Tzgani chuckled, “I’m happy to be of help.”

They both knew she could be doing more. But the government didn’t quite trust her to be an active surgeon. Galran heritage and all. 

She’d worked with the Blade of Marmora for several years before coming to live on Soleli, a spur of the moment decision rectified by a story unknown to Ofella and to probably anyone but those involved. Tzgani had lived a wild life in open space, but also one of hardship, you could see it in the intensity of her eyes, only sorrow and heartache could form such tantalising depths.

But Tzgani didn’t know she knew that, no one could. It was highly illegal for a doctor to be reading into the history of their workers through classified files. But compromising her position might have to do to find out the truth, to piece Blue’s past together.

Ofella stopped and turned towards her, encouraged by the moons smile and the soft sounds of midnight, “I know you’ve worked with Voltron before.” She said, casting an eye to catch her reaction. She said nothing but Ofella knew she saw a falter in her step, _caught her by surprise,_ “And I need you to tell me about the Blue Paladin.”

“The Blue Paladin?” Tzgani walked several more paces ahead before stopping, she turned to face Ofella with a raised eyebrow, “You mean Lance?”

 

x

 

With one look the verdict was told. Blue had been reflecting longer than usual, past the point at which he usually came back with an apology.

Wynoa’s face fell when Blue’s gaze locked onto hers. His shoulders were stiff with a tenseness usually reserved for the officials, a coldness to him that had yet to be delivered their way. But it was more than that. There was a secret in the air he wasn’t even trying to mask. Wynoa backed away, nothing about this was making sense, not his curling fists or the anger that radiated with each of his words.

“Get your things together, bring only what you see useful.”

He turned then, and walked to a hollow he’d dug into the girth of a tree movements before. It was always a strange feeling knowing when he was looking at you without ever having seen his eyes. Wynoa nodded, even though lacking his attention.

It was almost automatic now to follow his orders. Blue didn’t often steer in the wrong direction, nor was he the type to not swallow his pride and change course if things weren’t turning out as planned. The effort was unconscious as Wynoa started to pile salvaged bits of important tech into their rucksack, it hadn’t crossed their mind to question their leader; he’d done his considering, and something told them he knew more than he was letting on. 

All Wynoa knew for sure was that they trusted him. That’s what they had to go off, and now wasn’t the time to doubt the man who had never let their team down before. Not now, not as their rescue was on the line.

“They’re not coming,” Miaho said, seated on the ground with a defeated slouch, “We’re stuck here.”

Nevaï was pacing between the trees, “What have you done?” They whispered harshly, practically spitting it into the air, but Blue wasn’t there to hear it anymore, they turned to Ochre who was sitting closest, “What has he done?” 

“I’m sure he has his reasons.” Ochre added quietly, already packed and readily waiting.

“What reasoning could possibly justify him abusing not only Merena, but the Paladins of Voltron and the smegging Princess of Altea.” Miaho hissed, circular eyes darting between Blue and the rest of them huddled on the grass, “I don’t know what’s come over him for smegssake.” 

Wynoa sighed, “He’s never led us astray before, and I doubt he’ll start now.”

It was silent, but agreement lingered.

“I can’t believe they’re alive.” Nevaï said after several long moments, “And if Blue hadn’t seen, maybe we never would of known.”

Wynoa’s heart clenched at the offhand mention of Nyarri, the two of them were rather close, both parents who confided in each other about the worry they harboured for the children and the world they were growing up in. Savial was quiet, he and Ochre often enjoyed each other’s company. A gentle giant, as Blue had once called him, and one of the most talented engineers within the rebel force. 

They’d seen them go down, all of them had; Savial and Nyarri plummeting in tandem towards an unforgiving atmosphere, a fiery streak that would forever burn behind Wynoa’s eyes.

“And if Blue hadn’t of said anything, maybe we would of never had the opportunity to get them back.” 

Miaho scoffed, “We don’t even know if they’re going to come at all anymore.”

“I must admit, Blue didn’t handle the situation with respect as I would of expected,” Ochre admitted with a resigned tone, chin buried into her knees.

Nevaï rolled their eyes and ceased their pacing, “Of course he didn’t, he’s not going to respect the people who withheld information about the not-so-deaths of our friends.”

“Weren’t you just cursing his name to the heavens?” Miaho accused.

“I’ve had time to consider,” they shrugged, two thick appendages snaking from their slicked back spot to rest over their shoulders. “And my gut is telling me we’re gonna be okay.”

Ochre gave a small smile while Wynoa watched on, a feeling of hope settling in their chest right beneath the photos of their children tucked in their wrap. _We’ll be okay, I’m coming home._

“Oh great,” Miaho grumbled, “Nevaï’s having bowel movements. I am not sleeping next to you tonight.”

 

x

 

Keith didn’t often dream in the barracks of the Blade. Sleep instead came to him like a thin tide of water, it would lap against his body but never submerge him in oblivion. Sometimes, if he laid still with his eyes closed tightly and he pushed every thought out of his mind, sleep would trickle back. His mind would shift in and out of consciousness until the ‘day time’ lighting would creep into his room and the footsteps of passing Blades would rouse him from the light slumber.

But last night, before he received the transmission to head for the Rebel Base, he’d dreamt of Lance. It was summer, and the morning light was tinged with pink, they were on a beach, Varadero Beach, the one Lance always talked about back in Cuba, back on Earth. The salty air surrounded him as he stood on the sand, and he heavily breathed in the bittersweet scent, feeling a slow wave of happiness rise over him. Lance stepped through the pool of sunlight and Keith opened his arms for him, laughing, feeling like he might die from love, but as he did the vision would fold in on itself and Keith would be descended back onto that damned battle cruiser, where a light would blind him and Lance would disappear, leaving behind nothing but a scorched bayard. Keith woke up after that, and he hasn’t slept since.

Lance is dead. 

Keith wakes every morning with a blow of grief to his heart.

“You should sleep,” Pidge said into the quiet, “There’s still a varga before we have to leave.”

“Wouldn’t be worth it.” He mumbled back.

Pidge sighed and sat next to him, they looked out into the vast expanse of space for several long moments before she spoke again, “That Blue is a character.”

Keith snorted, thinking back to the utterly appalled look on Allura’s face, he’d think it decaphoebs since anyone but Pidge had spoken to her in such a blatantly rude manner. Pidge joined his amusement with a snicker.

“Think Allura will trip him up with her bayard?” She elbowed him lightly, “Just for a little ‘oopsies’ moment?”

“She might just use yours to electrocute him,” he chuckled, “Like when you first got it, you-“ he cut himself off, the smile falling from his face as memories washed back once more.

“Like when I electrocuted Lance?” She finished tersely, “That was pretty funny.”

“Yeah.” He whispered, emotions given away through the crack of his voice.

Pidge looked at him, obviously trying to grab his attention, but Keith’s eyes remained on the ground. She sniffed wetly, “I miss him too, you know? All the time.” 

He met her watery gaze then.

“I know it doesn’t seem fair,” she continued, “It isn’t fair how Matt and Dad keep slipping from my grasp, it isn’t fair how Altea was destroyed, it isn’t fair how Lance was killed, and it isn’t fair we never got to say goodbye...” she shuddered a breath and reached for his hand which he gave willingly, “Nothing about war is fair. Nothing. But we can’t take any of it back, we can’t change it. All we can do is keeping going, keep trying. You owe it to Lance. He would hate how distant you’ve become, he’d probably call you a ‘wannabe lone wolf’ again.”

They laughed quietly together for a tick.

“Thanks Pidge.” He said, and he meant it.

“Don’t thank me,” she said, “Prove it to me.”

It wasn’t until they were lowering the Green Lion towards Verankia that he realised what she meant. He and Hunk were standing either side of Pidge’s seat, while Allura flew Blue - decaphoebs before, Lance had insisted Blue be decked out with the same invisibility tech as Green, claiming that ‘his girl deserves all the best’ - and now the Blue Lion reluctantly agrees to be assisted by Allura on occasions of need, and the risk of dark magic robeasts lurking somewhere near seemed to meet the marker.

“Blue seems strangely eager today,” Allura chirped over the coms, “Perhaps she felt shrouded in her hanger. Should we add windows to the bays? Would that help some?”

“Maybe so, Princess.” Pidge droned back. Keith and Hunk exchanged a look while Pidge muted their line, “She always gets like this when Blue lets her fly. Suck up.” Green pulses around them in agreement, leaving Pidge with an expression of satisfaction from her Lions approval.

“She’s just excited is all,” Hunk arbitrates, “And it’s good feeling the Blue Lion’s presence either way.”

Keith couldn’t help but agree, the Blue Lion has a soothing effect, something tranquil and gentle but very apparent. She was the trickle of comfort down his spine, and all the more she remained in his mind the closer he felt with Lance. Pidge didn’t verbalise anything, but Keith knew she felt the same way.

Verankia had rings of dust and rock slowly circling it’s orbit, Pidge manoeuvred through them with an ease only experienced pilots had and Keith felt a warmth in his chest akin to pride, but also guilt, it’d been a long time since they’d flown together, something they’d spent such a large portion of their lives bonding over and melding their skills as one, and now Keith had missed so much, like how Pidge finally perfected her diagonal left turn. 

“Nice turn.” He said.

She cracked a grin, “I was waiting for you to notice-“

The suction of gravity hit hard. Keith’s back flew and hit the Green Lion’s roof, red folded over his vision and alarms blared from every direction. He could hear Hunk’s screams and Pidge’s noises of struggle to hold onto the gears. His mind was scrambled with the panic of no control.

“We’re going to hit the sound barrier!” Pidge screeched, hardly audible over the rush of falling. Green spun and her conscious wasn’t distinguishable, “I can’t feel Green!” She yelled again.

“I can feel my lunch in my throat!” Hunk yelped, “Oh sweet baby quiznak we’re gonna die!”

“Check on Allura!” Keith shouted, attempting to reach out and unmute her com but couldn’t quite get it, “Pidge! Unmute Allura!”

“I’m trying!”

Verankia’s atmosphere shattered any sense of remaining reality, Keith’s vision blurred, he felt himself crashing against every surface, pain exploding from each impact but his head was too abused to process any appropriate reaction.

He was going to die, and that’s when he realised, he never proved anything to Pidge; he never showed her that he was still Keith. He never got to prove it to Lance either, who he believed was always watching over him, that he would go on and tell his story, tell people about the amazing things he did and that he died for the sake of the universe, sacrificing himself to save an incomprehensible amount of others.

Keith was going to die, after four decaphoebs of barely living; and he had never regretted anything more.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blue’s armour: https://www.artstation.com/artwork/bekan
> 
> Just imagine it with navy blue accents and more of a visor for the helmet.

The promise of dawn lingered on the horizon, soon a faint blue would creep into the sky, sending the stars back into the depths of space as it expanded with the rising of the sun. Quintants and nights were indeed short on this planet, only half a dozen vargas at the most. Blue wished for the night to draw, to give them more time to escape under its haven. The slowly melting ice left from the frost glinted against the moon as they sunk down in drooping peaks.

Ochre reached up and trailed her finger tips across a low hanging spire, the leather of her gloves dampened at the touch. She turned to Blue and he looked ahead, avoiding the gaze.

“Do you think they’ll come?” Ochre spoke softly, almost nervous.

Blue looked at her, she always met him with an intensity that made him feel as though she knew every secret he held, like the visor separating them wasn’t even a factor and she could read every emotion that crossed his face. 

“I don’t doubt it.” He said. And he didn’t.

He knew Merena had no other way of getting the information that was driving her crazy with need. The information that Blue possessed, and at this moment he was the most accessible being who withheld it.

Guilt tried at his decision to not tell the remaining of his team, he originally had every intention of relaying everything he’d seen and read on Marlin, but the gravity of the situation weighed on him as he heard Nyarri’s scream and Savial’s desperate struggle with his jet controls, he remembered their words after they’d found the files, and he was once again reminded of how vulnerable they really were in this universe. He’d watched them _die_ , well, he thought he did, but they were alive; alive and smeg knows where.

Ochre frowned at him as they continued to the small open field where, hopefully, their rescue would take place.

“I trust you, you know.” She said, “I trust your decision, however it continues to leave me confused.”

Blue stayed silent, but checked behind them to make sure Nevaï, Miaho and Wynoa were still trailing. They were. Miaho and Nevaï were bickering and complaining about the slippery conditions left from the frosted ground melting into slopes of mud, while Wynoa herded them along and rolled their eyes. Blue couldn’t help but imagine them doing the same with their young children he often talked to them about.

“That wasn’t my intention,” He said, “I’m sorry.”

She sighed, sounding far too old for someone so young, “I don’t want your apology, I need your confidence in this decision, tell me you’ve done the right thing.” Her eyes clouded with sudden intensity, “Return to the base isn’t going to be easy, you cannot threaten Merena under no just cause and expect everything to be fine.”

As if a realisation dawned, her eyes narrowed and she raised an accusatory finger; demeanour the complete opposite of her usual timid output, “Unless you do have one, in which case would mean you’re not telling me something.”

He wanted to tell her, but it was for her own good. It was his burden to deal with, everything he had uncovered was something he knew was his responsibility to endure the repercussions of. A short fear would sometimes bubble in his chest with the knowledge but also with the worry of not quite knowing the extent Merena would go to to shut him up. It almost made him wish Nyarri and Savial would escape on their own terms and never return to the base, but he knew the thought of pulling themselves into safety without Blue would never cross their minds.

“Are you not telling me something?” Ochre pressed.

“No.” Blue said, “You know everything.”

Her face looked pained, betrayed, and as if a knot had loosened and slipped apart, she turned from him and slowed her pace to match Miaho’s, who had strode ahead from Nevaï’s constant niggling.

Blue rolled back his shoulders and pulled out his wide dagger as they entered a particularly thick part of the forest, slashing at the flora shrouding them to clear their way to the field. Ochre was silent even as Miaho nudged her and threw out comments about Blue and how he’s probably horribly disfigured beneath his helmet and that’s why he wears it - comments that would usually rile her up and send her to Blue’s defence - but no such response was emitted.

Blue’s chest tightened and he may of swung his dagger harder. No matter what he would never put her in danger, even if it meant losing her trust. Even if it meant hurting her feelings, even if it meant losing their friendship. He would never put any of his team in danger, and that’s just that.

They continued the hike with a thick cloud of tension settling, they had become attuned to one another over the phoebs spent in close proximity, so it wasn’t hard for the team to notice Ochre’s frustrated draw to her brows, and Blue’s harsh treatment of the environment, harsher than exactly necessary.

“Trouble in paradise?” Nevaï whispered to Winnie, whistling a low tune when Miaho turned in exasperation with flashing eyes, _damn enhanced hearing._

Winnie huffed but gestured to Blue, “Well I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of that.” They said.

Nevaï’s lips quirked into a small grin but it was wiped away as a trail of bright lights flashed and streaked over head. They had entered a sector where aloft was more open than below, meaning the horrors of above were naked for the eye to see, “What the...”

“What the quiznak is that?” Miaho coughed, waving a hand in front of his face to fight off a whirl of bugs that took an interest to him.

Blue looked at Wynoa and immediately reached for their bag, “Hey!” They snapped.

He rifled through and pulled out the small communicator they had functioning after removing the drive from their computer and binding it to their non-working holopad after their stumble onto this planet; they had it functional, turning on, emitting sound and colour, not quite perfect, but working, and only a varga earlier. Blue pressed it on, but it was dead, completely dead.

“What is it?” Wynoa asked, snatching back their device, “Did you break it?”

“No,” Blue answered and looked back up to the sky, watching as the lights burned up and faded through the atmosphere, “The rebounders fell.”

“How do you know that?” Nevaï asked, moving to view the device Winnie was whining over in defeat.

“Because they were directly in line above that.” Blue pointed to a visible communications tower, they were planted sparsely and horizontally throughout the forest, crossing its entire length, but required a small rebounder above for them to relay information from pole to pole till eventually reaching different bases.

The system was a commonplace in a lot of still-developing societies with slower methods of cross-planet communication. Wynoa had come across these around a phoeb ago and explained their role, so Blue was able to connect the instances almost immediately. The lights on the tower he had been mindlessly staring at - as passing this tower was a sign they were close to the rendezvous point - had shut off and then the rebounds fell, it wasn’t a split second fault because that wouldn’t entail the rebounds to lose their fixes and burn up in atmosphere. The entire system had died. So he checked Wynoa’s active technology and it was also blank.

He looked back up at the sky, to see two distinct figures tumbling against the stars, tumbling towards the forest. If what he thought happened was correct, then...

“Are you suggesting...” Wynoa said, before gaping in realisation and tossing the communicator to the ground, “But it came from-“

“Behind. I know.” He said, “But I think our visitors didn’t have a clue.”

Wynoa scanned the measure of night and gasped, “It can’t be.”

Ochre stepped behind Blue and gripped his forearm, “Are they going to die?”

“Is who going to die?” Miaho interjected, Nevaï slapped him and pointed, his eyes widened in realisation.

“A Lion would never let its Paladin die.” He said, somehow absolutely certain with that statement to his core, “But we still need to find them before the natives do.”

 

x

 

“Lance?”

The name rolled over her tongue, unfamiliar, leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. She wanted to spit it out and leave it there, forgotten on the ground of the back streets that were hardly walked, never to be thought of it again. But this was beyond her. Beyond how she felt. She’d already stepped too far, gotten ahead of herself, willingly leaping into a realm of possibility all tied back to the Blue Paladin, to _Lance_ , to _Blue_.

An indifferent look folded over Tzgani’s eyes, “The Blue Paladin.” She said, “Lance.”

Ofella didn’t speak, she clutched her bag tighter, hands knotting into the woven rope at the small of her back. She breathed deeply, it shuddered through her in hesitant waves, and she didn’t know why. She couldn’t understand the fear growing in her heart, she wasn’t a selfish person, the decision to do _more_ for Blue had never been in question until this moment. Perhaps she was scared of him leaving; of him running off into oblivion with a big sentient robot, and his name being not Blue, but _Lance_. The startling reality of it all is she could see it, and it all made sense. He came into leadership and soldier-hood with an ease that went unquestioned, she barely bat an eyelash his way when he continually came home singing of the praises and promotions being fed to him, she was just proud.

Tzgani dropped her head, “Why are you asking me this?” She asked, “That is my past.”

Ofella frowned, guilt cursing her, “I’m sorry, I just...” she trailed off and glanced back up into the sky, wishing upon all the stars for the same confidence they’d gifted then ridded her of only doboshes earlier.

“What is all this to do with Blue, anyhow?” Tzgani snaps, an anger now rising and taking Ofella off guard, “Lance is dead.”

The stars stared back aimlessly, offering nothing. _Lance is dead._

“But what if he isn’t?” She whispered.

“He is.”

“How do you know?”

Tzgani’s jaw twitched, her teeth wore at the bruised plush of her bottom lip, “Do you think I’m making this up?”

Ofella tore her gaze from the sky, “No.” She said, and took a step closer, “No I don’t think you’re making it up, but I think you could be wrong.”

“How do you even know that I know anything about it?” Tzgani glared at her feet, almost as a warning to not come closer. Ofella ignored it and took another step.

“I can see it in your eyes, you know something.” She said, “And I need to find out what that is.”

Tzgani looked defeated, “For Blue? What has Blue got to do with anything about Lance’s death? He _died_.”

“Are you positive?” She pushed.

“Yes.”

“How?”

“Because I saw it happen!” Tzgani yelled, her voice cracking, “We all saw it happen.”

Ofella pulled a breath from her resisting lungs, “How?” She said, “How did he die?”

“What does it matter, Ofella?” She pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers as though willing off a painful memory, “He’s gone.”

Ofella didn’t know how to put her point into words, so instead she just pulled the blue and white piece of armour from her bag and pointed at the stark blue V pressed upon in.

“Then explain this.” She said.

Tzgani stared at it, then turned glazed eyes upon Ofella’s own.

“How did you get that?”

 

x

 

Pain is what Keith awoke to.

The other times he had been knocked about a Lion’s pit during battle he’d always opened his eyes to a soothing purr, a welcoming urge to get back up and continue fighting.

There was nothing. He felt nothing. Green’s powerful, niggling presence was nowhere in the back of his mind. He felt empty.

“I can’t feel her.” He heard a croaked voice whisper.

Keith raised his head to see Pidge clawing at the pilots chair, a look of desperation in her eyes as she pleaded with her Lion to wake up.

“Neither can I.” He offered, hoping he didn’t sound as wrecked as he felt.

Pidge slumped against the floor, “I don’t like this.”

“Ditto.” Hunk groaned, “Just a question, how are we even alive?”

The Yellow Paladin was half propped against the wall, face bruised with blood streaming from a cut above his brow.

“I don’t know.” Keith said, “Green, probably.”

Pidge sniffed and spread a loving hand across the bottom of the cockpit, “Yeah, she would of done anything to protect us.” She looked to Keith and he noted the drying tears on her red and bruised cheeks, “It’s like she’s dead.”

Hunk groaned as he shuffled across the floor to wrap an arm around his friend, “Don’t worry, Red and Yellow should be here any moment to take us and Green back. Especially Red, you know how feisty she gets when Keith gets hurt. Remember that time she literally tore through a battle cruiser and gave a big ol’ roar and then scooped Keith up and wouldn’t let him out for like two whole vargas? Yeah, we got nothing to worry about.”

Keith chuckled into his sore shoulder, _yeah, he remembers that._ And when Red finally did let him out it was only to Lance’s begging and whining. Lance who then proceeded to wrap Keith in his own arms and not let him go for two vargas either.

“Green isn’t dead.” He assured, “She probably just... needs a moment.”

“Yeah.” Pidge nodded, “Something is just spooky about all this, I don’t like it.”

Keith took a moment then to surgery his injuries. He flexed his toes and his fingers, slowly working through his body, tensing each muscle to check for any sign of damage. His shoulder was sore, and one of his ankles felt swollen. He knew he definitely had a concussion and possibly a cracked rib. But he was fine, nothing severe.

“Are you two okay?” He asked, “Anything serious?”

Pidge shook her head. Hunk winced then pointed to the arm he cradled against his chest, “Broken arm.” He said.

Pidge sat forward and gingerly took the arm into her hands, “Does it need to be set?”

“Nah.” Hunk shrugged.

“Nothing a varga in the healing pod can’t mend,” Keith thought aloud, “We’ll get you in as soon as we get back.”

Hunk nodded solemnly, nobody liked the healing pods, but having to actually wait for a bone to mend was even worse. Keith had stubbornly tried to do so a few times before he gave up and allowed himself to be shoved in one of those hell-holes.

“Do you think Allura is okay?” Pidge whispered, now fiddling with a device, “My communicator must of been damaged in the fall, I can’t reach her.”

“She’s Allura, of course she is.” Hunk narrowed his eyes at the communicator, “Now open the battery.” He said.

Keith wouldn’t pretend to understand what they were murmuring about, so he instead lifted himself up and took a few hesitant steps. His ankle screamed in protest, he could feel its swelling against his armour, throbbing against the restrictive material of his Blade suit.

“Dammit,” he huffed, they were in hostile territory, he would be completely useless without the ability to fight or run. But he’ll just have to make do, he’d taken down fleets with worse injuries.

“Think we’re near the rendezvous point?” He questioned, picking up his bayard to attach it to his hip, “I could go meet the rebels.”

“Dude, you’re limping, and in case you forgot, that Blue guy is goddamn crazy, no way are you going by yourself.” Hunk stood also, his broken arm pressed his chest.

“Well you’ve got a broken arm.” He defended. “Besides, they’re rebels, they’re on our side.”

“Uh uh,” Pidge corrected, “They’re against the Galra, doesn’t mean they’re necessarily all gung-ho for Voltron. Or the Blade for that matter.”

“Then we all go.” He said.

“Three concussed Paladins against five elite rebels with phoebs of built up rage for being stranded?” Hunk’s lips pulled into a grimace, “Not exactly liking those odds.”

“How do we know they’re ‘against’ us?” Keith huffed, “They want to get off this damned planet as badly as we do, and we just so happen to be their ticket out. So I’d say under those terms we have the higher ground.”

Pidge shrugged, “We may as well do something while we wait for Red to tear her way out of the castle.”

“Fine.” Hunk said, “But if we die I’m pinning it on the two of you.”

Questions went unspoken as the three clambered their way from the Green Lion, who lay on her side with no yellow signs of life sparking from her eyes. Pidge looked at her painfully, Keith surveyed their surroundings. It was still dark out, in the night of their quintant cycle. The sky held two large moons with a vibrant orange glow, and the stars skirted across the expanse in plentiful clusters. It’d be beautiful if he wasn’t in such a bad mood.

He wanted to speak, to scream, to ask the questions sitting on his tongue; _how did this happen? Why did we fall? Where is Allura? Why hasn’t anybody come for us yet? Is Red okay?_ But he knew it fruitless to ask two people as clueless as he on the happenings. So instead he drew his bayard and glared at the moving forest with all his frustration drawn from the situation, “I hate this place.”

“Man, how are we evening going to get to the rendezvous point?” Hunk whined and and used his good arm to push a hand through his matted hair, helmet tucked beneath his elbow, “We are so foolish, and concussed, we are all definitely concussed.”

He had a point. Pidge held up her communicator and cursed at it, “This damn thing is fried useless.”

“I told you.” Hunk said, pulling his helmet on with shaking effort.

Keith blinked, never had their been a time where there was something Hunk and Pidge couldn’t fix. They’re the two smartest people he knows or has ever heard of, besides maybe Slav, but he has some sixth-sense freaky shit on his side so that doesn’t count.

“Pidge you can put one of those together in your sleep,” he insisted, “Are you sure?

“Positive.” She sighed, “The tech is just... it’s dead.”

Dead. Things need to stop dying. It’s getting on Keith’s last nerve.

“Maybe they’ll come to us.” Hunk suggests, “It’d be pretty hard to miss two giant Lions falling from the sky.”

“They could go to Allura first then, and who knows how far they were from us. Anyhow, there’s no point us wondering off and getting lost in this freaky jungle, so we should stay put,” Pidge said, “It just might take a while.”

“Great.” Keith groaned, and retracted his bayard, “Then you two get some rest, I’ll keep an eye out for any of those natives.”

 

x

 

“Should we go to them?” Nevaï asked, “There’s two, they’re a while away from each other, should we split up or something?”

“Split up?” Miaho let a dry laugh dripping in exasperation sound the air, “That’s exactly how all of us will end up dead. Dead in ditches.”

“And what makes you say that?” Nevaï rolls her eyes.

Miaho looks between the group, “Uhhh, how about every horror movie, like, ever?”

“I can’t see them anymore.” Wynoa whispers, breaking off the oncoming argument.

Blue’s eyes hadn’t left the sky, he saw the Lions fall out of sight, and was already making for a nearby tree when the words left Wynoa’s lips. He tore up the bark, and for a fleeting moment he remembered doing the same thing just with Reuq attached to his back, her happy laugh ringing in his ears. It was strange feeling the same sense of déjà vu he had even back then. Climbing trees and running towards the ocean, the closest things he had to remembering. And newly discovered; the storming eyes of Keith, the man he was on his way to really seeing for the first time.

“Damn, he climbs fast.” Miaho whistled as Blue hoisted himself out of sight.

“Looks like he’s done it a million times before.” Nevaï agreed, “I always got too excited and ended up falling whenever I tried climbing. To be fair the trees on my home planet were slippery.”

“Slippery?” Miaho snorted, “That’s your excuse? Not just that you’re dopey?”

“Shut up. They _secrete syrup_.”

The treetops were thick with no short supply of branches for Blue to shift across. He saw where the trees looked disturbed in two separate places spaced not too far from one another, the brightness of the moons let the forest hold no secrets. The air felt tighter from where he crouched, his head spinning with the strange sense of desperation that flung into his heart. He could feel a pull. Like he needed to get there. He was being urged to run as fast as he could towards them; they who were calling to him in a strange hum that resonated deep within his bones.

Blue didn’t know who ‘they’ was, but he was torn between the two distinct attractions. He worked back down the tree, his team looking as confused as he and he wondered briefly if they could feel it too.

“Let’s go. No splitting up.”

He started towards the nearest Lion, his soul stretching and heart tearing as the opposing force willed him to go to them, to turn around and _run_. He persisted, it had been a long night, actually it has been a long last few phoebs. The exhaustion of it all was probably just toying with his emotions, he wanted to go home so badly and his way out had just crash landed before his eyes - not just metaphorically - and if his assumptions were correct, it also meant no one would be coming anytime soon to retrieve them, not even the Paladins’ other team members. Merena was too smart and too deceitful to let this moment be her downfall.

But Blue knew everything that went up must come down, and if he had any say in it, she would be coming to her pointy reckoning much sooner than she could of ever foretold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry about the wait. I’ve been dealing with health problems again, hospital isn’t fun :( and either are exams :((
> 
> I hope you enjoy!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! 3k words for your enjoyment, and yes, I really did update this quickly ;) very out of character for me, I know. 
> 
> Keep in mind: Pidge, Hunk, Allura, and Keith are all really banged up and a wee bit out of character due too from, well, falling out of the sky and all... the real story is beginning soon, it’s gonna heat up :))) be ready ladies and gents and friends <3

It was raining. Lance had loved the rain.

Each droplet that caressed Keith’s cheek reminded him of the one he lost.

It was dark and they were sleep deprived when the natives came out of no where; tall, hunched over beings with tribal markings marring their skin and faces with features resembling monkeys, their earlobes were large and drooping, decorated with multiple holes stretched by metal. Keith could guess they were a primitive species by the lack of clothing and serrated expressions swimming in their eyes.

Keith was clubbed over the head before he could react, and by the time he came to, he was staring at Pidge and Hunk tied to trees opposite him.

The natives were standing in a circle speaking a language he couldn’t understand, a language so rare their translators couldn’t even interpret. They weren’t a developed civilisation then, probably haven’t been off planet or even had interactions with the outside universe. Much like the humans from Earth before Voltron returned to inform them of the war and equip them with the defences needed if an invasion did come. But Keith recalled seeing rebounders and satellites orbiting amongst the debris based rings, and if these guys were loyal to the Galra, then it can be assumed they have measures to be able to contact in interplanetary fashion - which explains the satellites and the affiliation with the Galra. Perhaps they offered resources for loyalty, but that doesn’t fit the empire’s profile. Or maybe this planet had more to offer than meets the eye and the relationship more of an exchange; the planets resources for the native’s cooperation.

Pidge said the planet had an unstable core, that may be the result of extractions from beneath the crust, perhaps they were harvesting substances for war effort or maybe they had facilities set up for research purposes and the instability of the planet would make for a fair deterrent for inspection by the rebellion. And if there wasn’t any bases here, he could at least assume the Galra made regular visits or often sent influxes of supplies based on the fact the natives had the most recent Galra issued guns held tightly in their hands.

They’d tried their headsets, Pidge and Hunk had both been working at their own, and to no avail. It’d been chalked up to the crash, and their neoteric suits were a redesign, so undetected faults were in the equation also. Coran wasn’t too savvy with some of the Earth technology they’d recently worked into the castles systems, so it’s too possible he was having slight struggles with working around that to gauge their location and a way of contact.

Keith knew better than to speak, but he sent his team mates a look asking if they were okay. They both nodded. He sighed in relief and slumped backwards, his head throbbing as he leant against the tree he was roped to. The knots were intricate and thick around his wrists, the rope he was tied with laced around his shoulders, waist, ankles and arms. Mobility was limited, not that he would get very far either way. It seems falling from the sky and being knocked out multiple times within the last few vargas had worn his body down.

The rain thickened to a miserable fog. Keith wondered when it even began, it hadn’t been raining when the natives came, it hadn’t even been cloudy, so time enough had passed for clouds to move in while he was out. There was no distinction of the wind speed with thick forest shrouding them from every direction so there was no telling how long that was, but maybe enough for the rebels to be arriving soon; that is if they even had intention of doing do. Keith sighed, his hair fell in heavy tresses against his eyes, he didn’t have the energy or strength to flick it away.

He hoped they’d come, he could already feel blackness creeping into the back of his mind, he wouldn’t be much help in a fight at this point, but he needed to get Hunk and Pidge to safety, and he needed to find Allura, it would really be helpful if Allura showed up at any point, but he doubted she’d move on her own into unfamiliar territory and leave Blue incapacitated. That is if Blue had even gone through the same thing as Green, maybe Green was just sick or something, but Allura would of came straight to them if she hadn’t. So it’s safe to say Blue was in the same condition. He hoped Allura was okay, maybe Blue and the rebels had already gotten to her. _Huh, Blue and Blue... that was going to get confusing_.

He turned his gaze back to the natives, one was gesturing to him with their gun and speaking in gibberish with an exasperated tone. He felt a vague sense of fear filter through him as the native stomped his way and lifted the gun to his head. He heard Pidge scream and Hunk struggling against his ropes, but it was all white noise behind the ringing in his ears as he stared into the purple light pointed at his face. He looked into the eyes of the native, who stared back with anger fuelled determination, their long finger tightened around the trigger and Keith closed his eyes.

The shot didn’t come, instead he felt himself being loosened from his restraints and lifted to his feet. He opened his eyes again and found himself looking at his own reflection in a tinted helmet visor, the ringing faded enough for reality to push through.

“Are you hurt?” The helmet spoke.

“No,” Keith said, “I’m fine, only a little.”

“Concussion.” Another voice said, “Disoriented and confused, text book signs. He’s probably got other injuries too, no way did he get through that fall unscathed.”

“I’ll go with him.” The helmet said.

“I can walk on my own.” Keith snapped. “I’m fine.”

“You’re delusional.” The helmet shook, then grabbed Keith’s arm and swung it around his shoulders.

“Stop it.” He growled and shoved himself away, wincing when he leant too much weight onto his ankle, “Ow.”

He got a better look of the helmet, a tall figure with black and navy armour. Keith could only guess the person beneath it must be Blue; their previous encounter via video had been distorted to say the least, the image pixilated and choppy but working nonetheless. Blue confused him, Blue also had nice shoulders.

“You’ve injured your ankle.” Blue said, “Just let me help you so we can get to your team mate quicker, more natives will come and they might even bring an officer.”

Keith relented and reached for his shoulder, leaning against it as they started to run in the same direction as the others, “An officer?” He wheezed as the pain travelled up his leg.

“Galra.” Blue said, “We assume there’s a base located somewhere on the planet, but we haven’t had the manpower or resources to make an infiltration or even an excursion to find out for sure.”

“Okay, okay.” It was painful to run, painful to exist.

Blue’s hand tightened on Keith’s waist, he pulled him closer but their armour clinked and it wasn’t nearly a comfortable embrace, “You’re hurt.” He said.

“I fell thousands of feet, do you really expect me to be in perfect fucking condition?” He asked, groaning when his ankle twisted against a root.

“Just,” Blue seemed like he didn’t know what to say, “Pick up the pace.”

“I’m going as quick as I can.” He grunted.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Blue tilt his head in his direction. Keith tried to ignore the stare, but he could feel it burning into his skin even through the blackened glass.

The trek through the forest lasted a while, too much of a while, Keith just wanted his bed, with Blue shouting directions from their trailing position. His voice was deep, it was nice, and when he got frustrated at his rebels it would crack slightly, but Keith could hear the underlying fondness to it - and he didn’t know why - but Blue’s voice was just so easy for him to dissect.

Keith had never been good at social interactions, not on Earth, not on the thousands of other planets he’d visited over the decaphoebs. He couldn’t often read the tone of a room or take obvious social cues, and that all weighed down to the fact he was slightly autistic. So call it strange for him to be able to read someone upon first meeting, because he sure considered it so.

He noticed Pidge was being supported by the alien with owlish features, Miaho, he was pretty sure, and she seemed as out of it as he, probably more so considering she was only a small thing and all the heavy duty her body had endured today was surely settling in, no matter how stubborn she was.

Hunk was alright by himself, talking quietly with a shorter being he recalls as Ochre, his arm had been wrapped into a sling with what Wynoa called a chest wrap, but they’d need to get him into a healing pod soon so he would remain in ideal physical form. The girl he was with kept turning around and looking like she was about to say something before she’d be distracted by Hunk into further talk and seemingly forget.

Pidge was the one who broke the tense quiet between the groups, “You guys aren’t using a holopad to find your way, how do you know we are even going in the right direction?”

Nevaï shrugged from the front where they were slashing at the wildlife that happened to be in the way, “We’re following Blue.”

Pidge turned around to share a tired look with Keith and Hunk, before she faced Nevaï again, “The Blue Lion? How are you following her?”

“Not the Blue Lion,” Wynoa said, still fiddling with pieces of tech between their arms, “ _Blue_.” She gestured to the man holding Keith up. He was right, that was going to get confusing.

“And how the hell do _you_ know where we are going?” Pidge pushed, mouth curved into a snarl, “Because we need to get to Allura as soon as we can.”

“I saw the both of you land.” Blue said firmly, his tone held finality like he wouldn’t take questions on his judgement. It’s good a strength to have for a leader, people need that reassurance, “I climbed a tree.”

Pidge narrowed her eyes, but instead of pressing the matter she lowered her head and continued walking. Keith could understand her complacent attitude, he didn’t think he would be up for an argument at the moment either, especially not when faced with such a commanding personality.

“Smeg yeah you climbed a tree!” Miaho cheered, “You climbed it like no tomorrow.”

“I have experience.” Blue nodded and shifted the gun on his shoulder, it was pointed upwards to the canopy, as was his gaze, looking for any signs of native movement in the height of the trees.

“Can you imagine Blue climbing trees in his spare time?” Nevaï snorted, “Give me a break.”

Wynoa raised some loose wires they had pulled from the dismantled tech they were fiddling with, “I dunno, children can be are influencers.” They said, “Sometimes I would rather a damn juice pouch over nunvil, even after a full day of programming.”

“What do kids have to do with this?” Miaho asked, “Robots can’t reproduce.”

Keith felt Blue sigh through the movement of his chest, “Not a robot.” He said.

Wynoa continued working at the tech, not quite noticing the astounded looks from their team. “Blue’s child? Rue? Is it?”

“Reuq.” Blue corrected. Keith looked at him, a Dad, huh?

“Well, Paladins, I hope you savour this moment because you just found out more about that guy in a damn varga then I have in two decaphoebs.” Miaho snapped, sending Blue a glare over Pidge’s shoulder that was thrown across his own.

“Oh my quiznak,” Nevaï laughed, “Can you imagine? Blue? Oh Dada, can you ready me a story? Can you imagine Blue reading a kid a damn story?” They stopped their slashing to turn and point the blade in Blue direction, laughter still bubbling from their lips, “Wait, oh my god, do you have a mate? Someone mated this man. Wait, wait, wait, do you wear your armour in bed?”

Ochre wrapped her hand around the blade and pushed it down, “That’s enough.” She said, then kept walking.

Wynoa lowered their tech to look at her worriedly, then spoke to the rest of the group, “I thought everybody knew?” They said, “You would call your family every night from the barracks, I guess... I guess we shared a wall, that might be an advantage.”

“I was his roommate!” Miaho yelled, “And I never knew.”

“Well that’s probably because you’re stupid.” Nevaï shrugged.

“Keep moving.” Blue adjusted has grip on Keith, “We are almost there.”

Keith let himself sink into Blue’s side and decided in that moment to blame it on the concussion.

 

x

 

The Blue Lion lay slumped with no sign of life. A broken shard of moon glared down at the scene, it’s light faint beneath the cover of thick canopy. An eery song wavered in the air, each note striking Blue between his ribs and digging its place deep within his heart. The draw he felt to walk towards the Lion was overwhelming, he wanted to smooth his hand over its scratched surface and press his cheek against the cool metal, he wanted to sit beside it, just sit in its presence and stay there.

The Lion was not moving, but it was the most live being Blue had ever encountered.

He was too rooted in his spot to notice the Paladins embracing a figure dressed in a dented flight suit, he didn’t realise as Keith slipped from his grip and stumbled into the figures embrace, he didn’t even take notice of Ochre standing in front of him until she gripped his hand and pulled his attention to her.

“Blue,” she said, “The princess is okay.”

He nodded, and looked over her head to continue staring at the Lion, he needed to get to it... if he could just touch it.

“While its all good and dandy everyone is alive,” Miaho started, then gestured to the Lion, “Where do we go from here? Both your Lions are, what, dead?”

“She’s not dead.” Blue whispered, the words caught by the princess whose eyes blazed with indifference. _She_ , Blue realised, _her_ , it felt right.

“And what would you know of the Blue Lion?” The princess snapped.

“Are you saying that she _is_ dead?” Blue countered.

“No.”

“Then I know the same as you.”

“Hardly so.” The princess glared at him, but slid her gaze to Miaho, “Could you direct us to the rendezvous point? I’m sure the others of our team shall be on their way shortly.”

Wynoa pursed their lips and held up their upper arms, “I hate to say it, but that’s doubtful.”

“What do you mean by that?” Keith asked, Blue could see the defensive furrow to his brows through the cracked screen of his helmet.

“Have you seriously not figured it out yet?” Nevaï drawled, “You lot were shot down for a reason.”

Pidge rose to the slight, “We weren’t shot down.” She said, “Our Lions would of warned us, there’s sensors for those kinds of intrusions, multiple even, we were the only ones out there.”

“Except for Merena.” Blue cut in, “Except for the rebels, and except for whoever else you left behind from your team.”

“What exactly are you insinuating?” The princess growled, “Coran would never-“

“And I’m not saying he would.” Blue raised his gun to his shoulder and scanned the tree line, _surely the natives would be swarming this place after a crash_ , “I’m saying that there are people who might of.”

“That doesn’t explain how our Lions just suddenly shut off,” Keith interjected, “It must be something in the atmosphere or-“

“No.” Blue said, “It was not just your Lions.”

“It was everything.” Ochre spoke up, “The rebounders fell, all the signal towers shut off, Wynoa’s communicator died. I’m sure you too have noticed the sudden casualties of your technology, not just your Lions.”

Pidge blinked, “Our headsets, my holopad, we thought it was the crash.”

“You were wrong.” Miaho said.

Pidge blanched, her weight shifting further into a defensive hunch. Like a second instinct Blue could tell she was running everything through her head and tightening the loose ends and questions in her mind. She was smart, incredibly so, as soon as she opened her mouth that was evident; but her unwavering loyalty seemed to deny some realisations from making their way to her.

After all, blinded loyalty was a fertile breeding ground for the kind of psychological bacteria that warped minds and emitted hope. He couldn’t exactly blame her. Seeing the puzzlement curving her lips, he felt a slight pang strike his heart. He wanted to comfort her; an _odd_ sentiment to have for a stranger.

Blue kept his aim high, “This planet and its surrounding area was hit with an electromagnetic pulse of sorts.” He said, “Someone wanted you dead, and someone wanted us to stay down here, most likely for the preferred outcome of death also.”

Hunk was pale, he looked ready to heel over and sicken the earth. Pidge seemed angry, like she did not want to believe what they were saying but was faced with a blatant truth. Allura looked at the Blue Lion with a solemn gaze, while Keith stared at Blue, rebel Blue, with an expression unreadable but displaying the multiple emotions crossing his mind, he seemed too exhausted to settle on just one. They would need to find a place to rest, the height of the mountain was near, they could find a sheltered area to reroute their actions and get some needed rest.

“What do we do now, then?” Keith asked, “You guys know this planet a whole lot better than us. We need a spot to regroup.”

“And a spot we shall not need search for,” Nevaï smirked, “I know exactly where to go.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 4k words? who is she?
> 
> sorry about the wait, loves. I recently moved towns and schools and have been re-adjusting to my new life!
> 
> Read on if you: want to see Blue open up a lil, yay!
> 
> Enjoy the chapter!

The eyes may not lie, but that does not mean they can’t be lied to.

“How did you get that?”

From the moment Lance sacrificed himself, _a distant scream of agony as a blinding strike of energy struck his body_ , to now, Ofella staring up at her with determination swimming in her dark eyes; Tzgani had never doubted the fate of the Blue Paladin.

But the slice of armour, something that shouldn’t exist in itself, let alone be found on Soleli, a planet that hasn’t had first hand experience with Voltron, stirred something that sparked hesitance within her.

Seeing is believing, and she knew what she saw, _but is it the truth?_

“It’s the giving season down by the cove.” Ofella explained, scaled fingers paling with their shaking grip on the armour, “It washed ashore.”

Tzgani studied it over, it was the Paladin’s old armour, the ones that all matched, with white and accenting colours coding back to their respective Lions. The last she had seen of the Paladins before she left the Blade was them in their new armours, each designed for the specific Paladin and equipped to withstand modern war weapons. After seeing some of the recent injuries on the refugees, she’s sure their weapons had been upgraded again, possibly meaning the Paladin’s armour had been too. 

“And how do you know it’s real?” She asked, this could all just be a cruel prank that someone had dragged this innocent woman into, “Its not rare to find re-makes of Paladin armour, cosplayers and fanatics and such.”

Ofella frowned, “I _don’t_ know for sure,” she said, “but it would make sense. Everything would make sense. Not complete sense, but more than before, more than _now_.”

She looked angered, angered Tzgani wasn’t being lenient with her trust, brows drawn together and chest heaving. Her shoulders pulled back, attempting to put forth a display of intimidation even with her small stature. Tzgani felt a pain in her chest.

“Just help me do this,” she continued, “I _need_ to do this.”

“ _Need_ to do what?” Tzgani snapped. “Re-open old wounds? _My_ old wounds?”

“What if this mends them? What if he’s alive? What if he’s _Blue_?” Ofella approached and gripped her hand, Tzgani stared down at the contact then back into her eyes, “Blue washed up on the beach just over four decaphoebs ago. Reuq found him, and we took him in.”

“It didn’t make sense,” she said, and Tzgani couldn’t do anything but blink back in a stun induced haze. “The tide was dragging out, if he’d come from the water, there’s no scientific way that explains for him to end up on the sand when considering the current. No vessel was found, he was just wearing what was left of this strange, skin tight black suit with a few pieces of battered armour hanging off his body. Nothing salvageable. He’d lost a leg, I had to get Reena from the hospital to amputate it.” She took a deep, shuddering breath, “when he woke up, he didn’t remember anything. Nothing. Not about himself or anything else, not where he came from, not who he was. He just said his name was Blue, that’s all he could tell me.”

Tzgani closed her eyes, everything inside telling her to run away. Run away... it was a powerful instinct. Run from it. She wasn’t the one this information should be handed to. She wasn’t the one who needed to hear this. The pain of Lance’s loss was only just healing amongst those who knew him, it’d sent a shock wave through the entire coalition. The Blue Paladin was always the first to smile, the first to joke, the first to introduce himself when not under formal introductions, the first to sling his arm around your shoulder when the air grew tense. But Tzgani would never forget the way he looked at Keith, at a halfling like herself, with so much adoration and respect. Ingraining the philosophy of not weighing out your value with your bloodline into her skin. Zarkon despised halflings; the impure, the damaged. And in turn made Tzgani despise herself, despise her mother for being non-Galra, despise those with similar make. Lance had proved to her she could be loved, much like Keith could be. Keith had proven she could be meaningful, not just a pawn on the Blade’s board, not just a worthless piece in the game that would inevitably lay down their life for a mission. 

Then she watched as Lance succumbed to that love, something that overpowered him, that sent him to his death. And stayed watching as Keith slowly fell apart and lost the strength he carried so diligently to the witch, _that damned witch_.

“Just look.”

Tzgani shook her head, she didn’t want to see.

“ _Look_.” Ofella demanded.

She opened her eyes. Opened her eyes to gaze upon a familiar face. It was Lance. Older, darker, face marred with a scar tearing across it. He had Reuq on his hip, and an arm around Ofella’s waist, smiling at whoever was behind the camera with the same devastating charm she remembered from many moons ago.

“Lance,” she breathed. There was no more point denying it. “All along.”

 

x

 

If the earth had a pulse, it rose through the mountains. 

Violently red peaks stretched upwards as if to paint the sky, thin and abundant, like the clumped bristles of paint brushes Reuq would leave lying about after forgetting to rinse them. They pressed against the blue of the sky in an almost startling display. A lot of features about this planet often left Blue short of breath; faintly strange yet almost alluring.

After passing through the thick of the forest and instead breaching into a rocky tundra, the Yellow Paladin broke the silence.

“Where are we going again?” He asked, sweat pooling on his temple with the exertion of climbing up and over many maroon ridges, “You know, it’s just, this seems awfully out of the way from where we were initially supposed to meet.”

Nevaï didn’t falter from her leading position, followed closely behind by the Princess who struggled with trying to maintain the same pace while also supporting a wincing and drowsy Keith.

“There are caves up ahead,” they explained and kicked away a stray rock, “we originally wanted to base ourselves here after I found them, but Winnie had already set up all their techy-stuff and it was too risky to move it all.”

Blue kept his eye trained on the tree line as they rounded one of the looming peaks, he ignored the way Wynoa shot him a wounded look.

“My ‘techy-stuff’ was rather magnificent considering my medium,” they huffed. “Until someone had to go ahead and blow it apart.”

“Guilty.” He said.

“Quite the show, really.” The Princess scoffed and glared at him over her shoulder, “rather disrespectful. I’d expect someone of your authority to have more dignity.”

Blue could admit he’d been more than dramatic during their video transmission, but the Princess was stretching it to just assume anyone who met her was immediately under conditions to respect her regardless of reality.

“Dignity? Respect?” Miaho halted his walking to turn his sarcasm in the Princess’s direction, Blue sighed, “That’s rich coming from you.”

“Rich?” The Green Paladin snarled while the Princess reeled at the harsh words, “What are you getting at?”

Ochre gripped Miaho’s wrist and pulled him back, “cool it.” She said. “This isn’t helping anything.”

“Well neither is she!” He snapped, “talking about respect like she hasn’t given us anything but snide eyes since we met.”

“Guys,” the Yellow Paladin whined, “Is this really necessary?”

“Well you can’t exactly blame me!” The Princess barked, disregarding her teammate. “Your captain spoke to me in such a demeaning manor, I’ve never felt so undermined by someone apart of the coalition.”

“You mean to say that being shot down by an electromagnetic pulse sent from none other than your ‘closest ally’ is worse than someone speaking out of term with the intentions of saving their friends’ lives?” Wynoa said, annoyance clearly laced in their tone, “You need to sort out your poorly directed anger, highness.”

“We don’t know for sure-“ She started, albeit weakly.

“Highness?” Miaho scoffed, cutting in sharply, “She’s no Princess of ours, in fact, I believe her to be the ruler of only _one_ subject.”

“Oh damn.” The Yellow Paladin whispered, arm grabbing around the Green Paladin’s waist to keep her from storming on the man.

“Enough.” Blue said, trying to keep his voice level, “Let’s move on. We all need rest. Our current position is too compromising to spend time arguing, we will sort out our differences once we reach the caves.”

The Princess’ hurt eyes betrayed the firm line of her mouth. “I’ve had quite enough of this.” She said, then switched her glare to Blue, and turned without another word.

Blue strode forward and gently caught Keith against his chest as the Princess seemingly forgot her hold on him. The Red Paladin groaned into his shoulder, “You guys are all idiots.” He wheezed.

Ochre looked at the man pressed to him for a long moment, before nodding in agreement. Blue had a strange urge to pull back his armour just to feel Keith’s warm breath soothe into his bare skin.

“I think you’re right.” Blue said.

“Of course I am.” He grumbled, and allowed Blue to help him limp along, even with the offended looks the Princess would pass Keith’s way; like she was watching him commit a mass betrayal.

He slung his rifle over his free shoulder and gave Miaho a pat on his clenched fist, “We will talk about this later.” 

Miaho growled but averted his gaze to the dust covered terrain.

 

The largest cave they could find to accomodate them all had been through a twisted maze of looming rocks, Blue had hummed in approval as Nevaï used their dagger to slice into each hard surface they passed to leave marks so they would be able to find their way out.

“It’s kinda spooky.” The Yellow Paladin whispered to his green companion, Pidge just groaned.

“Not the time to get freaked out, Hunk.”

“Dude, I’m not even that bad with this kind of stuff,” he defended, “it was Lance who caught the spooks the easiest.”

Pidge snorted but it cut off into a pained sound, Hunk slowed their movements for a moment so she could just breathe. 

“You and Lance were as bad as each other.” She said after several moments. “But I guess he did think the castle was haunted, even until- oh.”

Blue felt Keith tense against him as soon as the name ‘Lance’ was mentioned.

“Until he died.” The Red Paladin continued, his words heavy from the winded tone.

Pidge chuckled lowly, “We’ve got to stop doing that.”

“Agreed.”

Hunk looked at Keith with blatant worry, Blue felt himself tighten his grip on the Paladin.

“Who the heck is Lance?” Miaho thought aloud. 

It went deafeningly quiet. He saw the Princess bring her hand up to cover her mouth.

For some reason, unbeknownst probably to anyone, that name twisted Blue in the gut. He ran it over and over in his head until it hurt, and quickly went to speak as Hunk seemed to hesitantly open his mouth.

“Save it for the cave.” He said.

Blue had expected the conversation to drop; that everyone would succumb to their exhaustion as soon as they were able, but nothing really seemed to go in his favour as of late. The cave had high ceilings, rounded naturally by the age of eons. A dank looking stream of some thick, purple substance oozed around from a spot on the indigo shaded rock and pooled into a small pond in the far back, when Blue inhaled the liquid smelt like burnt tar and stung his nostrils. 

It was a shame that the pulse had wiped out all regulators in his suit, he’d have to manually do a lot of things now, mainly the upkeep of his stump. He wasn’t supposed to perspire whilst wearing the prosthetic, one rule already broken during the rush of finding the Paladins and then safety. He shouldn’t of even been wearing the prosthetic this long without it’s maintenance systems running and regulating his sweat, blood pressure and heart rate. Since he could remember his immune system had been low, and the stump didn’t prove to help in the slightest with that fact his always seemed to be prone to infection. Admittedly, he feared that if he exposed the stump from the confines of his armour he would risk infection, but if he didn’t let it breathe and if he allowed sweat to build up and put too much pressure on it he could risk much worse conditions. Either way, without medical attention, he’d be completely quiznaking useless, or worse, dead. 

He lowered Keith to the ground and allowed him to lean against the side of the cave, returning from his thoughts to stare at the Paladin. He looked exhausted. Too exhausted, he needed water and food and he needed it now. They were in the early stages of the quintant so wild life wouldn’t be hard to find, however, they’d just climbed up into the girth of desolate mountain range with no signs of fresh water and every one of them was either over-tired or injured. 

He looked to Ochre, she had her forehead pressed against the cool surface of the rock, only then did Blue really take notice of the heat. They needed water. Smeg’s sake, they really needed water if they intended to survive - _and you bet your behind Blue intended to survive_.

Blue approached Ochre and brushed the black strands from the back of her neck, brushing his fingers across the faint skin, the stone embedded there was a muted grey. She sighed under his touch.

“Stop that. I’m fine, really.” She said, but made no move to push his hand away.

Blue let her hair fall back over the stone, usually a pearly white when health was in order, “Doesn’t look it. I assume it’s hot to touch, too?”

Ochre turned to face him and reached a trembling hand around to graze the back of her neck.

“That would be correct, Captain.”

Blue could see the near defiance is her eyes, like she already knew he was planning on heading out and didn’t want anything in her way in order to join him. 

“But it is just the heat and the lack of slumber, I should be fine after a short rest.”

“Yes, you need rest.” Blue agreed. “So do the others.”

He watched as Nevaï fretted over the bullet wound in Miaho’s gut, most likely infected, as Wynoa listed of possible roots, grasses, and barks that could treat infection from the top of their head. He frowned and but thanked the stars for Miaho’s resilience against wounds - he’d bounced back from many that would of rendered others an invalid plenty of times - the guy was prone to severe injury it would seem. But that was always with proper aid and tonics.

“Miaho needs your help.” Blue said, glancing pointedly at the bandages wrapping around Ochre’s wrists and forearms that she always kept on. “More so than I.”

The Voltron team had grouped at the other end of the cave, the Red and Green Paladins looked worse for wear as the Princess splinted the Yellow’s arm with a yellow piece of fabric and a firm stick he’d seen Hunk pick up at some stage, obviously with this intent in mind.

“They do too.” He added, eyes trailing over the sickly face of Keith. 

He really didn’t like seeing him this way. Stranger or not, he was instrumental to the coalition. Voltron was important, they had a purpose, he needed to help them get back into play as soon as they could. They all needed to help them. Still, something tugged at his heart as the Red Paladin’s brows furrowed in pain as the Princess begun stripping his leg armour away to prod at his ankle.

“What about you?” Ochre asked, her face carefully blank.

“I’m fine.” Blue assured her, “No injuries and heat exhaustion has yet to hit me, I guess my body is pretty accustomed to this type of climate, I reside on Soleli of the Nixiri system, I will be fine.”

“Soleli?” Ochre repeated, eyes rounded, “I’ve heard of that planet, I believe you took in refugees from own after it was over taken by the Galra.”

“Most likely.” Blue nodded, “Ofella did tell me that the hospital she works at had many refugee patients, she even volunteers at the centres in her spare time.”

“Ofella is your child’s mother, yes?” She tilted her head, “your mate?”

“It is a long story.” He resigned, “I will tell you another time. For now, you should rest.”

“She sounds like a wonderful woman.” Ochre averted her eyes to meet the stares of Miaho, Wynoa and Nevaï.

“She is cut from a different cloth.” Blue agreed, “I owe her my life.”

“You sound as though you love her.” Ochre pressed, “why do you avoid admittance to your mateship?”

Blue hung his head, there really was no getting around explaining his relationship to Ofella and Reuq without revealing far more than he’s comfortable with. But when things spiral, as they are sure to given the current standings, he also needed to make sure that his death would be reported back to them through someone he trusted, so setting a foundation to his life couldn’t be the worst thing to do - avoiding it all this time had been tiring, after all. He missed saying their names. That and Blue couldn’t afford to have his team’s faith in him weakened either, not now. They needed to remain strong, remain together. He had every intention of sending them all home alive.

“I do not deny my love for Ofella.” He said, “I lived a long time solely for her and that child. Now my circle has widened, I care for you and the team as I care for my family, so when I say that some information must be left undiscussed I need you to trust me and not push any further.”

He turned to the other three to see them gawking at him. “That goes for you brats, too.”

“Okay but just one thing!” Nevaï interjected, clasping their hands with big, hopeful eyes.

“Depends on what the ‘thing’ is.” Blue said.

“Okay, okay. So, I’ve visited Soleli before with my intermediate education class.” They started, a small voice chimed in from the other side.

“High school.” The Green Paladin grimaced, “nice to know _hell_ is universal.”

Nevaï blinked, “I am unsure what this ‘hell’ that you refer to is.”

“Okay, we didn’t even go to high school, we were at the _Garrison_ , and you were only fourteen when we came into space so you’d technically _barely_ even be in high school.” The Yellow Paladin chided the Green.

“I’ve been on tumblr enough to be grateful I never entered that _hellscape_.” Pidge responded with a weak snarl. “And in my defence, the Garrison had Iverson.”

“I punched him once.” Keith added.

“Dude,” Hunk awed, “my respect for you just grew tenfold, but how have you kept this information from me for a whole _decade_?”

“How did you think I got expelled? And how did you think Iverson got that eyepatch?” Keith asked, like Hunk was missing the completely obvious.

Pidge cackled, “oh my god, I better not be hallucinating. Keith you punched a man’s eyeball out.”

“No I just did a significant amount of damage to his retina.”

Hunk wheezed, “oh man, Lance would of loved this.”

“I do recall Lance mentioning this ‘Iverson’ man,” the Princess chuckled, “the knowledge of Keith punching his face would please him greatly.”

Blue watched on, amused, but not in the slightest understanding.

“Uh hello?” Nevaï waved their hands in the air, “my story?”

“Sorry,” Hunk said through the last of his chuckles, “continue?”

Nevaï nodded, “As I was saying, I visited Soleli and I know what the natives look like. So _please_ tell me you’re one of those a green, scaly beings. That would really ice my cake, honestly, they’re just so cute and you’re so _you_ so I gotta know.”

“You’re asking if I am green with scales?” Blue blanched at them.

“Yes, and those appendage-y hair tufts, oh those are just so cute.”

Miaho was already laughing. 

“No way!” He snorted, “if Blue looks like that I’ll eat my shoe.”

“We shouldn’t even care for his appearance.” Ochre frowned at her friend, “it’s insignificant to his leadership and abilities.”

“I know, I know,” Nevaï gave a flippant hand, “but I can’t stop the curiosity. It’s killing me, I gotta know.”

“Ochre’s only thinking about his _blue eyes_ and his _muscles_.” Miaho made kissy sounds and Winnie slapped him over the head. “Ow.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Ochre growled at him.

“I will tell you, I am not a native of Soleli.” Blue said, hoping to placate.

Nevaï slumped, “damn it.”

“But my family are.” He offered.

“No way!” Nevaï gripped his shoulders, “I have to meet them! Can I meet them?”

“If we survive then I see no reason why not.”

“Yes!” Nevaï pumped a fist in success, “hear that guys? I’m meeting Blue’s _family_.” 

“You all can.” He shrugged. 

“I must ask, Blue.” Wynoa had a hand soothing through Miaho’s hair, maternal instincts acting no doubt, “do your family know where you are?”

“No.” He choked after a drawn moment, “but I do not doubt their faith in me, either. I worry for Reuq no less, but her mother is more than capable.”

“My own do not know either,” Wynoa said, “but I could guess my mother and father are all over them, they wouldn’t have a spare minute to miss me.”

“They miss you.” Blue told them. Wynoa smiled to themselves, a hand coming up to rest over their chest where the image of their children sat snug in their wrap.

“I believe I am about to pass out.” Ochre said, breaking the silence. “I am going to rest.”

Blue glanced at her as she settled beside Wynoa and used their thigh as a pillow, she was ashen in the face, lips dry and pale. Dehydration. 

“Winnie, look over them while I go collect some supplies.” He said.

Wynoa hummed, the back of their hand resting against Ochre’s clammy forehead, they met Blue with a worried glance. Blue nodded his understanding.

“You shouldn’t be leaving by yourself,” Keith piped up, slurring slightly, “you’re too exposed.”

“I will manage.” 

The Yellow Paladin was doing his best to keep the Red and Green Paladins awake, seems their species must not sleep with their concussions, similar to Blue’s own biology.

“I will go with you.” The Princess cut in, “four capable hands are better than two, after all.”

“Princess, are you sure you don’t need rest?” He asked. They couldn’t risk losing her, he knew of her importance to the universe overall, he could feel in his veins that she was crucial for order in every galaxy.

“I am more than well.” She said, standing up and brushing off loose dirt from her legs, “we should leave now.”

“Agreed.”

He turned to his team, “I will be back. Nevaï if you’re up for it could you start collecting rocks from around the area to create a fire pit?”

“No problemo, Cap.” They grinned and saluted him.

“Stay safe.” Wynoa regarded. 

Blue nodded. As he passed by the Paladins he spared himself a moment to look down at Keith. Bleary, dark eyes met his own, Blue felt himself being washed away.

“Stay awake.” He said to him.

Keith lifted a hand to knock against Blue’s calf in dismissal. “If you stay alive.” 

“Deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls comment, it fuels me dang flabbit

**Author's Note:**

> This writer thrives off comments and kudos, please feed the writer.
> 
> Give me feedback! I really love it!
> 
> Get into contact with me:  
> Tumblr @/onlinemagenta  
> Inspired by the Lost Lance Au by @/kaxpha


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